Deception and Heartbreak
by Firestar385
Summary: Life in Imladris Arc. There's deception in Mirkwood and heartbreak in Imladris. A prequel to Dandelion with a host of new characters and conflicts.
1. Chapter One

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Translations are at the end of the chapter.

_A/N: I would recommend reading this story before_ Dandelion _(which I know is mean, considering I posted this afterwards) because it goes into a little more depth about the tensions between Lindir and Glorfindel. It doesn't matter if you've read_ Dandelion, _you just know how things work out between them already. However, there is a lot more conflict in here than just between those two, and this story is, for all intents and purposes, able to stand completely on its own from_ Dandelion.

**Chapter 1**

Lindir hurried down the hall, eager to deliver the reports he had just finished copying for Erestor so he could retire to his room and work on the song he was nearly completed with. A bout of inspiration had struck him while he was doing the tedious writing and he wanted to start working before the words left him again.

He entered Lord Elrond's study and was surprised to see both the master of the house and his chief advisor, Lord Erestor, frantically scrambling around. It seemed they were trying to find something important. He knocked loudly on the frame of the door to gain their attention and both dark haired elves turned to look at him expectantly.

"I have finished copying the reports," he informed them, holding forth the neatly stacked papers he carried.

"Thank you, _pen-neth_," Erestor replied absently, turning back to the scattered papers he was sorting through. "I thought I told you to put that paper somewhere secure, Elrond!"

"I did!" the half-elf in question retorted, accidentally knocking a few papers to the floor.

"What are you looking for?" Lindir questioned curiously. He stepped around the mess of papers and the two older elves, moving towards the small desk he worked at, tucked snuggly in the corner of Elrond's study. He set his copied papers on top of it and opened a drawer, pulling out a crisp, clean sheet of parchment with carefully printed tengwar outlining the list of things needed for feast scheduled for next week. It was a feast to honor Menelluin, the head cook in Elrond's household, whose daughter had just given birth. She lived in Lothlórien with her husband, so Menelluin had traveled there to be with her and was returning shortly.

"Oh, a list," Erestor answered, bending down to retrieve the papers Elrond had knocked to the floor. Elrond flopped down into his high-backed chair, trying to remember where the safe place was in which he had put the paper in question.

"Of things for Menelluin's feast?" Lindir smirked, carrying the paper towards Elrond's desk.

"Yes," Erestor applied, irritated by his aide's nonchalant tone of voice.

"Things like…ten extra tables, two new runners, an additional-" Erestor snatched the paper out of his hands and scanned it quickly.

"Yes, this is it," he announced after a moment.

"See, I told you that I put it somewhere safe," Elrond grinned, leaning back comfortably in his chair.

"Now if you had only remembered where that safe place was," Erestor glowered. Elrond waved him off and turned to Lindir.

"Have you seen Glorfindel recently? I need to speak to him about what meat we need for the feast."

"No, you are more likely to have seen him than I," Lindir replied, his mood suddenly falling at the mention of the famed balrog-slayer. He rarely saw the older elf anymore, despite the fact that their rooms where right next to each other.

"Hm," Elrond muttered, trying to place where his seneschal might be. "Would you go down to the stables and see if he's there? Tell him I need to speak with him immediately."

"Yes, milord," Lindir sighed. He turned and left the study quickly, suddenly feeling rather irate with the elves inside. Logically, he knew he could not blame them for he tried his hardest to hide his feelings and he knew both were preoccupied with hosting a feast without the aid of their head cook.

He hurried towards the stables, hoping that Glorfindel would be there so Lindir could relay Elrond's message and then return to his room to finish his song. He barely noticed the peacefulness of the late afternoon or the curious looks the other elves gave him as he nearly ran towards the stables.

He burst into the large wooden building, earning curious looks of a few of the horses, including his own bay mare. Her ears perked up at the sight of him but he had to regretfully inform her that he had no treats. He did pause to offer her some sweet oats from the barrel across the way. Once he had said his good-byes, Lindir headed towards the magnificent stall where Glorfindel's stallion, Asfaloth, lived. To his disappointment, the horse was alone.

Frustrated, Lindir left the stables and made his way towards the weapons storage building where Glorfindel had a small office to use when he wasn't in the main house. The entire building was dark.

The next place he looked was the training field and this time he was rewarded with the sight of a few elves gathered, watching two elves spar in the middle of their circle. Lindir paused just out of sight behind an old oak, watching the muscled form of Glorfindel easily block a low cut from one of the captains, Arandur. Sometimes Lindir wished he was not so musically gifted, or so thinly built, so he could join the ranks of the warriors and perhaps regain Glorfindel's favor. He did not know what he had done to lose it in the first place, but ever since Glorfindel returned with Lord Elrond from the Battle of the Last Alliance, he had not been the same towards the blond minstrel.

Once Glorfindel had tapped his sword on the shoulder of Arandur, the sparing match ended and the seated elves applauded their commander. Lindir stepped around the tree and approached them confidently, having long since lost his nervousness around the powerful warriors.

"_Mae govannen_," Glorfindel greeted, waving him over. "What can I do for you, Lindir?"

_Call me _sinquelë_, like you used to_, Lindir thought sadly, but answered aloud, "Elrond requests your presence immediately."

"Has he finally decided he cannot handle Erestor any longer and wants me to end his misery?" Glorfindel joked, earning nervous laughs from his warriors. Lindir found it amusing that the warriors, both young and old, were completely comfortable in Glorfindel's presence, yet were intimidated by Elrond's chief advisor.

"No," Lindir replied. "He said something about hunting for the feast."

"Ah, of course," Glorfindel nodded. "That is all for tonight," he addressed his warriors. "I shall see you early tomorrow when I have the new patrol rosters."

"Good-night, Lord Glorfindel," the younger elves chorused and then hurried away to their own homes. Arandur accompanied Glorfindel towards the main house, leaving Lindir to hurry after them.

"Glorfindel," he called, causing the balrog-slayer to glance over at him. "Will you be in the Hall of Fire tonight?" Lindir hoped he would be so he could hear the minstrel's new song.

"No, I do not think so," Glorfindel answered shortly, before turning back to Arandur. Lindir stopped, watching them continue without him with a heavy heart. Suddenly, all of his inspiration fled and he felt a blackness growing within him. It was the feeling of abandonment.

"Grow up, Lindir. You are nineteen hundred and seventy years old. He's not worth getting upset about anyway." With a stiff upper lip, Lindir turned and started towards the river, not caring that the sun hovered only slightly above the horizon and that within the hour, it would be dark and the nightly gathering in the Hall of Fire would start.

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Translations:  
_sinquelë_ (Quenya) – "mine"  
_pen-neth_ (Sindarin) – "young one"


	2. Chapter Two

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Translations and thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

_A/N: Three is going up as well tonight, since I didn't post yesterday._

**Chapter Two**

Morning found Erestor writing hastily on a scrap of parchment, trying to determine exactly how many settings should be prepared for the feast in four days. Elrond sat a few feet away at his own desk, answering a letter from the Dúnadan troops' leader, Adkar. Lindir stared at the wall across from him, not feeling like making copies of any more documents.

"Lindir," Elrond spoke at length, bringing the younger elf's attention to him. "Is something ill with you?"

"No, milord," Lindir muttered hastily and picked up his quill to begin the boring task. Elrond frowned and exchanged a worried look with Erestor, who had turned to observe Lindir as well when Elrond asked his question. "I am anxious about the feast, as well," he lied, hoping to divert their attention back to the more pressing matter.

Neither of the older elves believed him, but Elrond was prevented from responding by a sharp knock on his door. "Enter," Elrond called. The door opened and Isil, one of Glorfindel's younger warriors, entered.

"My Lord Elrond," he greeted, bowing slightly at the waist. "Lord Erestor, Lindir," he acknowledged the other two before turning back to Elrond. "A forward scout from Mirkwood has arrived, claiming an escort is only a few hours behind him."

"What?" Elrond demanded, standing up. The messenger started and took a step backward.

"That is all I know. Lord Glorfindel sent me to tell you."

"Thank you," Elrond ground out. "You may go," he dismissed the young warrior, who wasted no time tarrying in the suddenly tense study.

"Damn him and his atrocious timing," Elrond fumed, stalking around his desk towards the door. Lindir made himself as small as possible in the corner and even Erestor stood hesitantly. There was clearly no love lost between the realms of Mirkwood and Imladris, especially since the death of both Oropher and Gil-Galad during the Last Alliance, and with the feast coming quickly, Elrond did not have the patience for any ploys of Thranduil's.

"I will have rooms prepared," Erestor spoke. "You should find Celebrían and go to greet your guests."

"I will. The twins are with Glorfindel today," Elrond said, mostly to himself. "Send a messenger for them," he instructed Erestor. "Tell them to meet me at the main courtyard, hopefully somewhat presentable. I do not even know who has come from Mirkwood. I do hope it is Thranduil himself, so I can tell him personally what I think of his unannounced visits."

* * *

A crowd had gathered in the courtyard to see the mysterious strangers from Mirkwood. The wood-elves generally kept to themselves and it was rare to meet one outside of the borders of their great forest. Many also knew of the tension between Thranduil and Elrond and had decided that if Elrond did not like the wood-elves, then they must be an inferior race of elves and worthy of their scorn. Unfortunately, they did not know the entire story behind the conflict. 

The party from Mirkwood was small. The leader was an imposing character, with dark brown hair and steel blue eyes. He exchanged short words with Elrond and handed the half-elf a folded parchment. Elrond took the paper but did not read it immediately, instead focusing his attention on the slight elf dismounting from his brown mare.

"Look, it is Legolas," Elladan whispered to Elrohir. Neither of the twins had met the only child of Thranduil, but they knew of him from the curt letters the Mirkwood king sometimes sent to their father. The prince of Mirkwood was fifteen years their junior, with pale blonde hair pulled back into intricate braids and large blue eyes which scanned the gathered crowd nervously.

"How long will you be staying?" Elrond asked the Mirkwood elf.

"Only until you reply to the king's message, my lord," the elf replied gruffly. "Our presence is greatly needed in Greenwood."

"Please allow me to show you to our guest rooms," Erestor said, stepping forward. Of all the elves in Imladris, he probably disliked Thranduil the most, but he had been a diplomat for nearly all of his life and could pretend otherwise easily.

"Why do you think he is here?" Elrohir asked his older brother, keeping a watchful eye on the slender prince. He didn't sense anything dangerous about the blond, who stood close to his horse with a quiver on his back and a dagger strapped to his waist, eyeing the elves around him with distrust. Rather, he thought the prince looked rather lost and scared.

"I do not know," Elladan replied.

"Well, why do you not stop questioning each other and introduce yourselves?" Celebrían asked from behind them. She pushed them forward with a hand on each of their backs. Slowly, the family approached Legolas, who watched them warily. Elrohir noticed the small flicker of curiosity that joined the anxiousness in the younger elf's eyes as he looked between the identical twin half-elves.

"_Mae govannen_, Prince Legolas," Celebrían greeted, nodding her head slightly.

"_Mae govannen_, Lady Celebrían," Legolas replied quietly. "Lords Elladan and Elrohir." The twins were pleased that he had heard of them as well.

"We are honored to have you as our guest, Legolas," Celebrían continued with a soft smile. She had no quarrel with their woodland kin and loved any child who crossed her path as if he or she was her own.

"Thank you," Legolas nodded, though all three could tell he didn't believe her. How could he when every other elf in attendance looked upon him as if he was an orc, desecrating their beautiful refuge by simply standing there? He had spent enough time around his father's court to know that one usually said what was considered proper and hardly ever what they truly felt.

"Come and I will show you to a guest room. Roquen will make sure your mare is given the best care," Celebrían smiled. Legolas look extremely unhappy to be leaving his horse's side, but the rest of his escort had already parted and the stable hand was waiting expectantly to lead Iest away. With a deep breath he took Celebrían's extended hand and allowed her to lead him towards the Last Homely House, the twin sons of Elrond trailing behind them.

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Translations:  
_mae govannen (S) – "well met"_

Thank yous: (Dandelion Chapter 18)  
**Seeing-spots** – Thank you for all of your reviews over the course of my posting of this story. When I first wrote out Lindir's new surname, my thoughts echoed Elladan's exactly. I almost left it out, but then realized the humorous advantage to it.

**Andromedia **– Once again, thank you for all your reviews to the story. Unfortunately, _Severence_ isn't completed yet, but it will probably go up next… even before _D&H_ is finished being posted.

**Arian** – Thank you as well for all your reviews. I'm glad you liked the interchange between Lindir and Elrohir. I know it was strange of me to post Dandelion first, but it was the first one finished, and the story that inspired the whole arc, so alas, it was first.

Thank yous: (Deception & Heartbreak Chapter 1)  
**Arian **– I hope you enjoy this story as much as the first. I agree with you, Lindir needs a big hug.

**Seeing-spots** – I feel bad for him too… Lindir is quickly becoming one of my favorites characters, despite having about one line in _The__ Fellowship of the Ring_.


	3. Chapter Three

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Translations are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Three**

"There is deceit within the halls of Thranduil's keep," Elrond sullenly told his beautiful wife. "An unknown perpetrator has gained access to the palace and is trying to upset the throne. Thranduil sent Legolas here out of fear for his son's safety. Legolas' keeper was murdered the day before the escort left Mirkwood."

"Oh, the Valar," Celebrían gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "He must be terribly upset." She thought of the prince, left alone in his strange room, most likely traumatized by the death. She did not know how her own sons would react and they were only seven years from their majority. Legolas still carried a child's bow.

"This is grave news indeed, for Thranduil is wary of strangers. Only an elf could have found himself alone within the palace."

"A kinslaying?"

"I am afraid so," Elrond said softly. "By your grace, I will keep him here until Thranduil comes for him himself."

"I would not allow you to make any other decision," Celebrían replied. "I will go to him now. I do not want him to be left alone."

"That is well. I will inform Tavor of my decision so he can return to Mirkwood with all haste. I will also request that the twins be released from their studies and training tomorrow so that they might spend time with Legolas. It will be good for him to be around elves his own age."

"While you are near the kitchen, would you please have something light sent to the prince's room?" Celebrían requested.

"Of course, _melda_," Elrond replied. He pressed a loving kiss to her cheek and then parted. A few minutes later Celebrían left their bedchamber as well, heading towards the guest rooms.

* * *

Lindir wanted to ignore the tentative knock on the door to his bedroom but he worried that it might be Erestor sending for him and he did not want to annoy the advisor, especially during this time of stress. Against his wishes, he called out, "Enter!"

The door opened and it was not a messenger from Erestor who entered, but one of Elrond's sons. "Am I bothering you, Lindir?" the dark haired half-elf asked, stepping shyly around the door and closing it gently.

"What do you need, _hina_?" Lindir questioned, not answering the question posed to him. In truth, he'd rather be left alone but he did not want to hurt the other's feelings. The twin approached the bed and didn't seem to notice that Lindir was struggling to identify him. The room was dim, so the minute physical differences between him and his twin were blurred. By the younger one's actions, Lindir guessed he was Elrohir, but did not want to be proven wrong.

"We missed you last night in the Hall of Fire," the twin replied, growing more confident and walking purposefully towards the bed on which Lindir was reclining. "You said you had a new song."

"I did not finish it," Lindir responded, unable to completely hide the anger in his tone. He had begun to resent Glorfindel for the way the older elf treated him as of late. "Where is your brother? Hopefully not playing some ill-conceived joke while you distract me."

"You think so lowly of us!" Elrond's son laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Lindir. "But nay, Elladan is helping _Ada_ in the healing wing and Nana is preoccupied with the prince. Erestor is too busy preparing for the feast to tell me more of Arda's history. I have been left to my own devices this day."

"What madness has taken your parents to leave you without supervision, young lord?" Lindir joked, feeling slightly better. There were none better at lifting the hearts of others than Elrond's sons. Lindir wished they had not grown so quickly. Within a few years they would be permitted to join Glorfindel on patrol missions and with the knowledge of the dangerous world outside of Imladris would come the death of their childish innocence.

"No madness," Elrohir grinned. "Simply distraction. Come now, I am bored and I want to hear your song. Surely it is finished by now. You said it was quite near completion yester eve."

"I have not finished it," Lindir said, his brief contentment leaving him again. Elrohir looked surprised but then narrowed his eyes at the blond minstrel. Lindir held his gaze confidently, watching the wheels turn behind the twin's dark eyes. Something seemed to click into place.

"Glorfindel was not attendance last night, either," Elrohir said matter-of-factly.

"Is that so?" Lindir questioned.

"Yes." Elrohir paused. He eyed Lindir critically for another moment before jumping up from the bed and walking towards the shrouded window. He pulled the curtains open, letting the afternoon sun spill into the room, catching Lindir almost by surprise. He shielded his eyes until they adjusted. "Having not finished the song means that I am still bored and now with naught an idea of how to entertain myself." He turned back to Lindir and his eyes flashed with some clever ploy. Lindir didn't like the look at all. "You, as the reason for my lack of productive activity, are therefore charged with keeping my attention, lest I find it within myself to terrorize the whole of Imladris."

"You are a crafty little dwarf-spawn, hear me?" Lindir informed him. "I suppose you would then, in the midst of your most certain berating, attempt to lay the blame on me?"

"That is a sound idea," Elrohir smirked, crawling onto the bed and kneeling next to the older minstrel, his knees almost touching Lindir's side.

"Fine, you have trapped me. Inform your father that I will be escorting you to the river."

"Thank you," Elrohir said sincerely. He grew serious. "I promise you will feel better Lindir. You just need some sun."

"I am sure the sun is just what I need," Lindir smiled, tugging on one of Elrohir's braids.

"Of course it is," Elrohir smiled again. He leaned forward to peck Lindir quickly on the cheek and then bounded from the room to find his father. Lindir waited until the door had closed behind him to sigh audibly. "Somehow, I do not think the sun is enough to explain Glorfindel's actions."

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Translations:  
_hina _(Q) – "child"  
_Ada _(S) – "dad/daddy"  
_melda _(Q) – "beloved"


	4. Chapter Four

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Four**

Legolas shouldered his quiver and picked up his bow, determined to find the archery range. Archery had always been a source of comfort for him and he spent long hours at the range in Greenwood, practicing with his trainer or by himself and perfecting the techniques taught to him or discovered on his own. Because of this, Legolas had advanced more quickly through the archery ranks, now working with the novice warriors though he was only twenty-eight years old. Unfortunately, he was not as passionate about the sword and his skills there were on par with those of his own age group.

The Lady Celebrían had finally left him alone and though he appreciated her concern and actually found himself taking comfort in her presence, she still did not calm him like the persistent twang of his bowstring.

Using his natural ability as a wood-elf to move silently and covertly, he managed to exit his room and sneak down the hall, heading towards the main foyer where he knew he could exit the building and eventually find the training grounds. He remembered the direction the stable hand had led Iest in and assumed that the training grounds would not be far from the horses' home.

He hid behind a statue in the main hall when he sensed the presence of another elf and saw a dark haired adult hurrying past, holding a stack of parchments. He recognized the elf from the day before when he had arrived, but could not remember his name. Once the hall was clear, he continued towards the main entrance. From there, he easily found the archery ranges, hidden away beyond the pasture next to a small tributary of the Bruinen. Unfortunately, a group of warriors was already there, practicing their archery. With a sigh, Legolas decided he could wait.

His dark green and brown clothes blended in perfectly with the dense foliage around the field so he could watch them practice without being seen himself. He noticed immediately that the tall, blond elf who wore dark blue and silver colors of some long forgotten realm was trying to teach the younger elves a new style of shooting. Legolas silently drew an arrow and placed it to his bow as the blond was showing the others. Immediately, though the hold was somewhat awkward for his small hands, he could tell that when fired, the arrow would fly with much power and probably have an arched path that was difficult to discern when it was barreling towards you, making it hard to dodge.

A hour later the warriors finished and the blond leader bid them farewell. Only when Legolas was sure that all had parted and would not be returning soon, he crept from his hiding place and approached the targets. He pulled off his cloak, as the afternoon sun was warm, and laid it down beside him. He readjusted his quiver on his back and then drew an arrow, placing it on his bow like the blond had shown his warriors. Upon release, the arrow shot from the bow, traveling high but then suddenly dropping from the sky. It fell short of the target.

"Aim higher," Legolas told himself, drawing another arrow. This time his arrow managed to hit the target, but it was not centered in the bull's-eye. Annoyed, he drew again, shifting his stance slightly to the left. With a deep breath, he focused again and fired. His arrowed landed closer to the center but dropped below it. Again, Legolas adjusted his stance and tried again. He would not give up until the sun set or he had perfected the shot.

If he had only had his bow with him, he might have been able to save Merilië, his nanny and surrogate mother, when they had been attacked within his rooms just a few weeks ago. He had not even been able to attend her funeral, as Thranduil had sent him to Imladris the morning after that horrible night. He missed her terribly, but oddly had not been able to shed a tear over her. He felt as if his emotions were locked within him, under a mask of calm and control. He wanted to cry but he found he could not. He hadn't cried over his mother when she died, so what right did he have to cry over the one who was not his mother? He ignored the fact that he had only been a month old when the queen died suddenly.

Again and again he fired, trying to distract himself from the nightmarish images that plagued him… watching the jerk of Merilië's body as the assassin twisted the dagger in her bosom, the spread of blood beneath her as she died upon his bedroom floor, the assassin advancing on him, whispering hateful words and then disappearing through his window into the night just before the guards exploded into his room, summoned by his frightened screams.

* * *

Glorfindel scowled, finally remembering that he had left his gloves at the archery field, having removed them while instructing the novices. With a sigh, he blew out the lantern in his small office located in the weapons building. He exited the building, heading towards the archery field to retrieve his gloves before returning to the Last Homely House for the evening meal.

The familiar sound of arrows thudding against the wooden targets echoed down to him and with a confused frown, Glorfindel wondered who was practicing. He had sent all of his young warriors home and most of the older warriors were on patrol or hunting for the feast.

He came around the bend to see a half-pint elf firing green-fletched arrows from a junior's bow. For a moment he watched the child, who he immediately identified as the prince of Mirkwood, not by sight, but merely the fact that only Mirkwood residents dressed in the colors of the forest. It surprised him that no one attended the prince, meaning he must have snuck out on his own.

"You have some skill with a bow," Glorfindel spoke, revealing his presence. Legolas spun and faced him, looking as a rabbit caught between a fox and a rock cliff. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking comically like a goldfish. He reminded Glorfindel somewhat of Lindir when the minstrel had first arrived in Imladris. His heart clenched painfully as he thought of the younger elf and he nearly missed the prince's hesitant answer.

"It is my weapon of choice."

"Greenwood warriors are known for their skill with a bow. It is much safer for them to hunt from the trees than on the ground where they are at an equal advantage to their foe," Glorfindel said, walking towards the still startled looking elfling.

"That is true," Legolas responded. His weapons trainer had often schooled his students on the importance of being able to find an advantage over the orcs and other evil creatures who threatened Greenwood's borders.

"Do all elflings in Greenwood demonstrate such proficiency with the bow at such a tender age?" Glorfindel questioned, taking a seat on the soft grass so that he did not tower over the child, but rather Legolas looked down at him now.

"I practice hard," Legolas informed him.

"It is good to practice," the older elf smiled.

"Pardon me, sir, but I do not know you," Legolas spoke, eyeing the balrog-slayer with distrust.

"My apologies. I am Glorfindel of Gondolin, the commander of Imladris' troops."

"_You _are Glorfindel?" Legolas exclaimed.

"I am," Glorfindel laughed. "You look doubtful."

"I suppose you are not as I envisioned."

"And what did you imagine?"

"I do not know," Legolas sighed. "Many are not whom they first appear to be."

"You speak as if you have some experience with deceivers," Glorfindel said carefully. Elrond had briefed him and Erestor on the reason for Legolas' stay with them and Glorfindel had been shocked and deeply disgusted that any elf, Sindar, Silvan, or Noldor, could commit such a crime.

"I have," Legolas responded sadly.

"I am sorry to hear that. Now, tell me, how did our guest of honor come to find himself alone, so far from the main house?"

"I wanted to be alone," Legolas replied haughtily. "I do not pretend to be ignorant of the feelings the Noldor harbor for the other nations of elves."

"Has any here played you a cruel card?"

"I felt their looks yesterday and I sense their scorn today," Legolas answered. "Only the Lady Celebrían has treated me differently and for her I am thankful."

"I am sorry your reception here has been less than welcoming," Glorfindel said honestly. "I hope you will eventually look upon me as one who treats you equally, as well. Now, answer me this, child, are you as advanced with the sword as you are the bow?"

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Thank you:  
**Seeing-spots** – I've always imagined that Legolas was quite precocious as a child. He probably had a rather serious childhood. I never even thought of Lindir dumping Elrohir in the river… what a good idea! Lol, reading that made me laugh. The twins are little buggers sometimes.

**Arian** – I'm glad you really liked it. Thank you for your review.


	5. Chapter Five

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
**_Deception and Heartbreak_**

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Five**

"I do not think I have ever seen _Ada_ so agitated," Elrohir whispered to his twin.

"He has lost the prince of Mirkwood," Elladan whispered back. "He is probably worried that Thranduil will attempt to attack Imladris."

The twin sons of Elrond watched their father pace across the length of the dining room, waiting impatiently for the searchers to return, hopefully with the errant prince of Mirkwood in tow. It had not been discovered that he had disappeared from his room until Celebrían had gone to retrieve him for dinner. In hopes that he would return on his own, dinner had been served and the elves of Imladris ate peacefully. Now, however, half an hour had passed since the dessert dishes had been cleared and the sun hovered heavily above the horizon.

"Please sit down, dear husband," Celebrían beseeched him. "I am sure he is safe. He is most likely allowed to wander the palace of Mirkwood as he pleases and does not realize that we worry about his whereabouts, especially after all that has transpired in that besieged land."

"What happened in Mirkwood?" Elladan questioned Elrohir quietly.

"How should I know? You are the one who spent all day with _Ada_," Elrohir hissed in return.

"Well, he did not say anything of it to me."

"Then do not ask it of me."

"I won't."

"Good."

"Good." They glared at each other until Erestor told them to behave and sit quietly or leave. Lindir had already retired to his chambers, claiming he was tired from his adventure with Elrohir. Elrohir was quite proud of himself for Lindir was looking much happier than he had that morning, despite the indignity he had had to face by being toppled into the river, clothes and all. He hoped Lindir was not actually sleeping, but working on his song.

The door to the dining room opened and Elrond looked up expectantly. To his relief, and that of the others present in the room, it was Glorfindel who entered looking rather sheepish and carrying a sleeping elfling dressed in greens and browns. He was flanked by one of the elves Elrond had sent out searching.

"Where did you find him?" Celebrían asked, stepping up to Glorfindel and gently taking the youngster from him. Legolas did naught but sigh tiredly during the transfer, his eyes remaining vacant in sleep.

"He was with me for the entire afternoon," Glorfindel admitted. "I came upon him firing arrows at the archery range and lost track of time as we discussed archery and swordplay. Truly, I did not realize the lateness of the hour until he grew drowsy."

"He is safe now, at least," Celebrían said softly. "I shall put him to bed."

"You did not think to send word of his whereabouts?" Elrond demanded of his seneschal once his wife had left to put the prince to bed.

"Do not lecture me on keeping others informed of the whereabouts of other," Glorfindel argued. "Need I remind you of the time-"

"No, you do not," Erestor interrupted, standing as well. "At least not in our current company." Glorfindel glanced over Erestor's shoulder to where the twins were watching the whole exchange with wide, excited eyes. It was not often that they heard stories from their father's fantastic past.

The presence of the twins did not stop Elrond from shooting invisible daggers at him from his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. They exchanged a silent look before Elrond said, "My study." Glorfindel nodded succinctly and the two left the dinning room, heading for Elrond's study.

Erestor turned back to the twins, who looked disappointed that they did not hear the story. "Come now, how about a game in the Hall of Fire?" Erestor suggested, hoping to distract them.

"Not a learning game, is it, 'Restor?" Elladan questioned, but he stood nevertheless to follow his mentor to the Hall of Fire. Elrohir tagged after him.

"No, not this time, child," Erestor promised.

* * *

Elrond entered the room he shared with his wife and shrugged off his robe, draping it over the back of a chair. He glanced around the room and noticed that the door to the nursery was cracked open. This was unusual, as the door had been closed since the twins were moved into their own rooms some years ago.

"You put Legolas in the nursery?" Elrond asked Celebrían.

"I did not want him in the guest hall by himself and this way he will be easier to keep an eye on," she replied. "Sámë placed a cot within and tomorrow he said he would have a real bed set up."

"That is well."

"You looked harried, dear," Celebrían noted with concern.

"I had a discussion with Glorfindel," Elrond replied but from the tone of his voice, she could tell he rather meant argument. He sat on the bed next to her where she was reading a book until it was time to find their own sons and retire for the night.

"I take it that you are not happy with the way it went?"

"I meant to remind him that he was negligent to not inform me of the prince's whereabouts, but instead it became a rehashing of every time I had not reported to him," Elrond complained.

"He does have a point, my love. How many lords and ladies have you angered by disappearing for days without word?"

"It is not the same. I was not only twenty-eight years old," Elrond reminded her.

"No, even worse, you were a few thousand years old and clearly knew better," Celebrían laughed. "I remember _Adar_ being quite vexed with you one time. He almost forbade me from marrying you."

"It is a good thing that he reconsidered," Elrond smiled, leaning down to kiss her lovingly on the lips. "Of course, Celeborn was perfect and never upset anyone."

"Of course," Celebrían giggled. "That is why I am perfect as well. Like father, like daughter."

"I will not argue with you there. You are perfect," Elrond complimented her, stealing another kiss. That kiss turned into two, and then three, and soon the happy couple was lost in their own world.

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Thank you:  
**Seeing-spots** – You inspired me to add a line to Chapter Five that wasn't there originally. :p

**Arian** – Such persistence! I really appreciate it. Unfortunately, Lindir wasn't in this chapter either, but he reappears in Six and gets a chance to shine in Seven.

**Elf771** – Wow, I am very flattered! And no, I don't think it's sad… I enjoy the stories the most that make me react out loud. :)

**Lilandra** – Thank you for the awesome compliments. They make me want to work more a Severence, which is all Lindir and Glorfindel.

**Nimrodel **– As long as I keep getting such wonderful reviews I don't plan to stop writing in this arc for a while. I have a long list of ideas for stories. Nothing happens yet to Lindir and Elrohir, but neither are in the clear yet!


	6. Chapter Six

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous and translations are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Six**

Glorfindel stood silently in the dark room, only able to see the still form of the one on the bed before him because of his elven eyes. It had become almost a nightly ritual of his to sneak in Lindir's bedchamber and watch the younger elf sleep. He would first make sure that the minstrel's sleep was undisturbed and then let his mind wander back over their long history together.

Tonight was no different. His meeting with Legolas on the archery field had brought back a particular memory and the images floated through his mind as he watched the one who should have been his sleep peacefully.

"_My lord! Refuges from Tauno-Osto are seeking sanctuary in Imladris," the young guard informed Glorfindel. _

"_We will admit them," Glorfindel replied. "Send a messenger to Lord Elrond."_

"_Aye, my lord," the guard bowed slightly and then sprinted away to do as he was told. _

_An hour later the wearied travelers stood huddled together in Imladris' main courtyard. Glorfindel stood with Erestor, watching as Elrond skillfully assigned rooms to his unexpected guests and gave comfort to those who grieved for their loved ones lost. He checked minor wounds and had guards and servants assist the more grievously wounded to the Hall of Healing. _

_One female from the group seemed familiar to Glorfindel, as if he knew her from a dream. Cautiously, he approached her. "Madam?" She turned to him and her eyes widened as she took in his muscled form and shining golden hair. _

"_Praise the Valar, it is a miracle. Glorfindel of Gondolin walks among us again." This brought the eyes of many of the refuges upon him and he swallowed thickly before pulling the familiar elf away from the crowd. _

"_It gladdens me that you know who I am and I admit you look familiar to me, though it is as if I only met you in a dream."_

"_I do not suppose you would remember me," the elder elf-woman smiled. "You were always too preoccupied with my best friend to notice me."_

"_You are Virë then," Glorfindel remembered. "Have you news of Ancalë?" Virë suddenly looked broken-hearted and much more aged than an elf ever should. Glorfindel's heart clenched in his chest._

"_She is slain, my lord," Virë whispered. "Just two weeks past, when our village was destroyed by orcs."_

"_Tell me you lie!" Glorfindel cried, grief suddenly overwhelming him. Ancalë, his beautiful lover from his first life, had been alive the whole time he had been in Imladris with Elrond, only a nine-day journey away? And now that he finally learned of her, it was to learn she was dead? Life dealt him a cruel hand. _

"_I wish it were so," Virë said painfully. "I know this, Lord Glorfindel. She loved you up until the very last day."_

"_Virë?" a young voice called, and it was only then that Glorfindel noticed the tow-headed elfling clutching fearfully to Virë's skirt. "I am tired."_

"_I know you are, precious one. But first, you must pay your respects to Lord Glorfindel. He is a very brave warrior who lived in the same city as your mother a long time ago," Virë told him. Wide hazel eyes, filled with a torrential combination of fear, exhaustion, sadness, and a hint of wonder, turned to him, and instantly Glorfindel's heart was lost. He would know those eyes anywhere, in this life or his first. _

_He dropped to one knee before the traumatized youth and held out a hand, allowing the skittish child to grow comfortable to his presence before reaching out to brush a lock of dirty blond hair from his face. "My lord, allow me to introduce you to Lindir Loswanion, Ancalë's only child."_

_Glorfindel looked upon the child in amazement. So much of Ancalë he could see in Lindir that it was almost as if his father had no part in the elfling's creation. "I am honored to meet you, Lindir," Glorfindel said, his voice nearly catching in his throat. _

"_I am honored to meet you as well, my lord," Lindir mumbled shyly, bowing his head. _

"_Please call me Glorfindel." Eventually, dear orphan, I will have you call me Ada. _

Glorfindel squeezed his eyes shut against the gathering tears and took a deep breath, composing himself. "Someday, _sinquelë_, you will understand why I have to distance myself from you."

* * *

"Lindir, I have a great favor to ask of you," Elrond said once the blond aide to Erestor appeared in Elrond's study the next morning. Erestor was already seated at his desk, parchments stacked neatly in front of him.

"Yes, my lord?" Lindir questioned curiously. He seriously hoped it had nothing to do with copying more documents. The work was tedious and he didn't want any opportunity for his mind to wander.

"Celebrían and I have discussed it and we feel that the prince, with his tendency to sneak away, should not be left unattended. With all the arrangements still needing to be made for the feast, we are very short staffed. In short, would you mind spending time with him this morning and then escorting him to the training fields after midday meal?"

Lindir wasn't sure if he was in the mood to baby-sit, but he felt guilty refusing to do one of his lord's biddings, so he nodded yes.

"Thank you, _hina_, your assistance is much appreciated. Not only have you saved me from a large headache but you have saved an elfling from a very boring day indeed. Celebrían is with him now in our rooms."

"By your leave then, I will go to them," Lindir said.

"Of course," Elrond nodded. Lindir exited the study and sighed deeply. He had baby-sat for the twins on enough occasions to turn him off from the whole experience permanently, but he hoped the prince would be slightly easier, given that he was only one, instead of two.

Celebrían answered when he knocked on the door and he entered hesitantly. Even though he had been in Lord Elrond's private chambers before, he still felt out of place. He followed her to the nursery where Legolas was sitting quietly on the bare cot, kicking his feet back and forth idly.

"Legolas, this is Lindir. He will spend the morning with you, until it is time to meet Glorfindel again at the archery range," Celebrían told the little blond.

"_Mae govannen_," Legolas nodded quietly.

"_Mae govannen_," Lindir replied.

"If you need me, I shall be in the kitchens, helping prepare food for the feast," Celebrían told them both. "Thank you again, Lindir," she smiled and gave him a brief kiss on the cheek. She disappeared from the room, leaving Lindir and Legolas in silence. Lindir observed the youngster who, in turn, stared at the floor.

This might turn out to be a long morning after all.

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Translations:  
_sinquelë_ (Quenya) "mine"  
_hina _(Q) "child"  
_mae govannen_ (Sindarin) "well met"

Thank you:  
**Seeing-spots** – Glorfindel needs all the help he can get against the crafty half-elf, lol.

**Arian** – I like to think Elrond still thinks he doesn't need Glorfindel's "protection." :)

**Camille** – You're welcome and thank you for taking the time to review! Your comments have given me lots of encouragement.


	7. Chapter Seven

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Seven**

"Is there anything in particular you would like to do this morning?" Lindir asked, taking a seat on one corner of the cot.

"I would like to see my mare," Legolas offered after a silent second.

"That is fine," Lindir smiled, trying to reassure the youth. He did not want Legolas to be nervous around him or it would make the morning very tense. Legolas was already dressed to be outside whereas Lindir was wearing robes more appropriate for copying documents all day in Lord Elrond's study. "We will go down to the stables, but first I must stop in my room and change into clothes better suited for riding." Legolas nodded and followed Lindir from the room.

In the private family quarters, there is a main hall from which two slightly more narrow halls branch. Down the right hall are the apartments of Elrond and his immediate family, as well as a few empty rooms which will hopefully either be filled with more children, or sometimes, by Galadriel and Celeborn when they come to visit. Down the left hall are the rooms of Erestor, Glorfindel, and Lindir, as well as a few of Elrond's lesser advisors and the main healer, Envinyar, because this was the wing of rooms closest to the Hall of Healing.

"Are you related to Lord Elrond?" Legolas asked, his wide blue eyes taking in every minute detail of the carefully crafted walls and runners. Though he did not know exactly where he was, having awoken in a strange room that morning, Legolas knew this stretch of the Last Homely House was not near the room where he had spent his first night among his father's guards.

"Nay, but I do most of the boring work for Lord Elrond, so he decided I at least deserve a nice room," Lindir joked. Legolas smiled impishly up at him.

"Teitho does the boring work for _Ada_, but he does not have a nice room," Legolas informed Lindir. "He complains regularly."

"I suppose he should. I do not know what I would do without my nice room," Lindir replied. He opened the door to the antechamber of his suite, which was quite small compared to Glorfindel's next door, but it never bothered him much. It was not as if he entertained many guests in his room. His bedroom, on the other hand, was nicely sized and had its own private bathing room, once again quite tiny, but at least he did not have to use the main baths like the rest of the inhabitants of Imladris. His favorite part of his room was the wide balcony that overlooked the waterfalls to the east.

"Are you a musician?" Legolas asked in amazement. Lindir guessed he had seen the large gold harp standing proudly in one corner of the room with a music stand and padded bench carved to match the intricate designs twisting about the frame of the harp.

"Yes," Lindir replied, shrugging off his formal robes and warily watching the younger elf approach his most prized possession. It had been a gift from Glorfindel for the celebration of his coming of age. He had turned fifty almost two millennia ago, but the harp was still in perfect condition, the result of Lindir's expert care and the quality of its craftsmanship.

Legolas traced a careful finger over the inlaid _mithril_, which caused the gold finish of the harp to nearly glow in the bright light of the morning. "Do you play anything else?"

"There are a few things in that chest over there," Lindir answered, pointing to an oak chest across the room. He breathed a little easier now that Legolas was moving away from his priceless harp. He ducked into his closet to find a jerkin and thicker leggings for horseback riding. He also pulled out his boots. He saw that Legolas had opened the chest and was pulling out the instrument cases containing flutes, lyres, pipes, a viol, and a few percussion pieces.

"You play all of these?"

"Yes," Lindir replied, tying the last clasps of his jerkin and walking over to Legolas. "Do you play any instruments?"

"No, but Merilië's brother played the harp and she loved to listen to him."

"Who is Merilië?" Lindir questioned, helping Legolas place the cases back into the chest.

"She was my nanny, but she died," Legolas answered. He sniffled slightly and Lindir regretted bringing up the sore subject. He had overheard Elrond and Erestor speaking about Legolas' situation but they hadn't mentioned any particulars, like the poor deceased elf's name.

"I am sorry to hear that," Lindir said honestly. He glanced over at his precious harp and then turned back to Legolas. "Would you like to learn to play the harp? Glo- My _ada_ always told me that our lost loved ones watch over us through a special mirror in the Halls of Mandos. Perhaps Merilië would think it grand if you learned the play the harp, since she loved it so much."

"You would teach me?"

"Only if you are interested."

"I would like that. Can we now?"

"I don't see why not," Lindir smiled, closing the top to the oak chest and standing. Legolas followed him over to the grand harp. Lindir sat down on the bench and adjusted it so he was comfortable and within reach of the furthest strings. He ran his fingers over the strings lovingly, drawing forth a beautiful waterfall of notes. Content with his setup, Lindir motioned for Legolas to come to him. He pulled the younger elf onto his lap. "Before you learn to play songs, you must learn what each of the notes are and how to pluck the right strings to get that note. Learning the notes is called playing scales."

"Do you still play scales?" Legolas asked.

"Once in a while," Lindir answered. "When I first received this harp, I practiced my scales whenever I could, so I could find the perfect pitches. I practiced so much that Glorfindel, whose room is right next to mine…" Lindir pointed to the wall where the door to his closet was located, "…threatened to throw my harp into the Bruinen if I didn't cease. Fortunately, he is down at the training fields so we don't have to worry about his nasty moods."

"I wouldn't want to make him mad," Legolas insisted. "He is going to practice archery with me this afternoon."

"You are fortunate. Glorfindel is quite good at archery," Lindir replied. "Come now, let me show you the first note." He reached around Legolas to pluck at one string and then other, creating a scale. They remained in Lindir's room until Erestor came to find them for the midday meal.

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Thank you:  
**Arian** – Definitely denial. :)


	8. Chapter Eight

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Eight**

"How was training this morning?" Elrond asked his twin sons over their light lunch.

"It went well," Elrohir replied. "Today was our last day with long knives and tomorrow we'll be working with the swords."

"I am looking forward to that," Elladan added.

"Will you be joining me in the Hall of Healing this afternoon?" Elrond asked his oldest son.

"Yes, _Ada_."

"Good. I will be showing you how to mix herbs to treat fevers from infection. Elrohir, I will expect you to be there as well."

"Yes _Ada_," Elrohir sighed, looking disappointed that his afternoon had been taken over. Erestor had given him a book to read the night before and he was looking forward to starting it. Even though Elladan was studying to become a healer and Elrohir a diplomat, Elrond still deemed it necessary that they be proficient in all aspects of running his household, so Elrohir would learn basic medicine and Elladan would learn the rules of court.

"How was your morning, Legolas?" Celebrían asked, turning to the prince who sat silently beside her, picking balefully at his lunch.

"It went well," Legolas replied, knowingly echoing Elrohir's earlier statement. His response was barely audible.

"What did you and Lindir do?" she persisted, trying to draw him out of his shell. She knew that he was uncomfortable in large groups of strangers, but she hoped he had least opened up somewhat to Lindir during the hours they were together.

"Played the harp," Legolas answered.

"I didn't hear any music," Elrond mused. His study was near enough to the Hall of Fire that he would have heard someone practicing an instrument.

"We played in my room," Lindir explained for Legolas. Four pairs of surprised eyes turned to look at him. Only Erestor didn't seem taken aback, as he had found them there before lunch.

"You let a half-pint touch your precious harp, but you've never let 'Ro or I near it?" Elladan questioned, pretending to be insulted. Legolas looked worried that the two identical elves would be mad at him because Lindir had shown him favor but Lindir was not worried at all.

"Legolas was properly moved by the splendor of the harp. You two have only ever wanted to torment me with your facetious attempts to do it harm."

"Did you hear that _Ada_?" Elladan asked his father. "Lindir says we torment him."

"He is not the only one you torment," Elrond replied, causing all at the table to laugh except for Legolas, who was still worried that the twins would be annoyed with him.

* * *

"Come, Legolas, it is time to meet Glorfindel at the archery range," Lindir said when the help began clearing their dishes from the long table. Legolas slid off his chair, happy to escape the company of the curious Noldors.

They walked down to the archery range leisurely as Legolas asked question after question about playing the harp and reading music, which Lindir had also attempted to teach him that morning. Lindir answered his questions happily, glad to be able to speak with someone who seemed to like music as much as he did. He found himself liking the little prince a lot and decided that instead of mourning for his rocky relationship with Glorfindel, he would focus on teaching Legolas all that he could during the prince's brief stay.

Legolas had his junior-size bow and quiver full of green-fletched arrows strapped to his back and was wearing the same clothes he had been all day. Lindir also still wore the jerkin and leggings he had changed into, which meant he would have to change again before joining Erestor in the study that afternoon.

"_Mae govannen_!" Glorfindel greeted them with a wide smile. "How are you my little prince?"

"I am well," Legolas grinned. "I am learning to play the harp."

"You are? Who is teaching you that?"

"Lindir, of course," Legolas replied. "He even let me play on the special harp."

"Did he now? That was very generous of him," Glorfindel responded, glancing over Legolas' head to where Lindir was vacillating between staying to say good-bye to Legolas or sprinting back to the main house to avoid Glorfindel.

"You wouldn't truly throw his harp in the Bruinen, would you?" Legolas asked, looking concerned for his new friend's prized possession.

"I might, if he started playing in the middle of the night again," Glorfindel teased. "Come now, it is time to practice a more manly endeavor," he stage whispered to Legolas. Legolas' eyes widened and he looked back at Lindir, who now stood with his arms crossed over his chest and shooting death looks at the older elf.

"Do not listen to him Legolas. Glorfindel has nothing but orc-guts floating around in his head anymore. He's all brute and no brains," Lindir shot back.

"Those are fighting words, young minstrel. Care to back them up?"

"Perhaps at a later date. I need to help Erestor with the running of Imladris," Lindir answered. "Have a good afternoon, Legolas."

"Good-bye." Lindir turned on his heel and stalked back towards the house, his good mood destroyed. He knew Glorfindel was only teasing him. Glorfindel had teased him his entire life for choosing to be a minstrel over a warrior. Why did it bother him so much now?

He sat down in a huff at his desk in Elrond's study after changing into more appropriate attire. Erestor looked up in concern. "Is all well, child?" he asked.

"There is more to life than brutish killing and swinging a sword around like a castrated orc," Lindir snapped as he yanked open his drawer and pulled out a blank parchment, quill, and pot of ink.

_Glorfindel, then_, Erestor thought to himself. To Lindir he said, "I shall keep that in mind." They turned to their own work in silence, though every once in a while Erestor would check to make Lindir had not torn holes through his parchment by pressing the point of the quill down too hard.

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Thank you:  
**Arian** – Don't worry, I like all the reviews, especially since it means you really are willing to take the time to leave me one. :)

**Andromedia** – I am glad you like little Legolas… he's a complex little guy and I worry that I don't do him justice.

**Seeing-spots** – Maybe that's why I never improved on the flute. :p

**Arialas** – Thank you for your compliments. Concerning the lesser known characters in my stories, and even the more common ones, I basically make up their personalities to fit the story, but they are strongly influenced by my peers. You might notice similarities in the relationships of Glorfindel and Erestor, Elladan and Elrohir, etc, to other stories. I have adopted what seem to be the most popular characterizations in the fandom, but I always try to add my own twist.


	9. Chapter Nine

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Nine**

The mood in the Hall of Fire that night was festive as many elves were glad to be done preparing for the feast that would take place the day after next. A group of minstrels played light hearted songs and many of the elves had taken to dancing, spinning each other around the room. Those not dancing kept the beat by clapping their hands or tapping their feet as they sat on chairs placed around the edges of the room.

Lindir clutched one of his flutes in one hand but sat apart from the minstrels, in the company of Celebrían, Legolas, and Elrohir. The room was crowded so they had to sit closely together and to make more room, Lindir lifted Legolas onto his lap. Elladan was in the middle of the equally crowded dance floor, guiding a maiden through the complicated steps of a popular dance. Legolas watched the whole room in wonder, for his father still thought him too young to attend the elaborate balls sometimes hosted in the palace, so it was all very new and exciting for him.

"Why are you not dancing, 'Ro?" Lindir questioned the younger elf seated beside him. "There are many young maidens eyeing you from across the hall." It was true, for a small group of female elves stood huddled together near the fireplace, stealing furtive glances at the eclectic group.

"I just like to watch," Elrohir said defensively, causing Lindir to raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

Celebrían laughed and leaned over her youngest, who sat between her and Lindir, to stage-whisper, "He likes the little redhead, but is too shy to ask her for a dance."

"Mother!" Elrohir protested, his face turning dark pink.

"What? It is true," Celebrían insisted, clearly enjoying herself at her son's expense. Elrohir, if possible, blushed even deeper.

"Do not worry, _elleth_ are yucky anyway," Legolas told Elrohir seriously. This caused Celebrían and Lindir to laugh even harder and Elrohir's face returned to its normal tone.

"How right you are," he agreed, ignoring the knowing look that his mother and friend exchanged over his head.

* * *

Erestor entered the Hall of Fire later than most, having been finishing the final touches on the preparations for the feast with Elrond. The half-elf parted with him to join his family across the room. Erestor spotted Glorfindel and thinking back to Lindir's mood earlier that day, he decided to confront the blond warrior.

Erestor stepped up next to Glorfindel, who stood by himself near the entrance to the Hall of Fire, watching the merriment with a sour eye. The balrog-slayer wasn't in a celebratory mood that night but he knew he could not bring down the rest of the crowd with his melancholy.

"I learned the most interesting thing today," Erestor said, smoothing down the front of his regal robe.

"How to lace your own tunic?" Glorfindel asked, his face never turning from the dance floor.

Erestor ignored the jibe. "Something even more profound."

"What is that?"

"Did you know, Lord Glorfindel, that there is more to life than brutishly killing things and swinging a sword around like a castrated orc?"

"Who told you that little jewel?" Glorfindel questioned, turning slowly to look at him.

"Why, I believe it was your son."

"He is not my son," Glorfindel muttered, more to himself than Erestor. "When, pray tell, did he tell you that?"

"I am quite sure it was right after he walked Prince Legolas down to the archery range." For all the advisor's flippant attitude, Glorfindel could read the focused intent in Erestor's eyes. The dark haired advisor wanted answers and he would not rest until he had them.

"Would you care for a stroll in the gardens, Lord Advisor? I find it quite suffocating in here." Glorfindel turned and walked from the great hall, knowing that Erestor would follow him.

They entered the public gardens silently. Thanks to the mini celebration in the Hall of Fire, none lingered in the gardens, so it was perfect for their private discussion. They walked a few more paces without speaking and then Erestor asked, "What, exactly, did you say to him down at the archery field?"

"I didn't say anything to him," Glorfindel replied evasively. Erestor rolled his eyes.

"Fine. What did you say _about_ him, when you _knew_ he was within hearing range?"

"You make me sound like a barbarian," Glorfindel pouted.

"Well?"

Glorfindel sighed before admitting, "Legolas told me that Lindir was teaching him how to play the harp and I said that we would practice a 'more manly endeavor' then. If it makes you feel any better, Lindir said I was all brute and no brains."

"You got off easy then," Erestor retorted. "I would have said something more along the lines of-"

"Stop, I do not want to know what your sharp tongue would have spewed forth," Glorfindel interrupted. "I do not know what upset him so, today. I have teased him thusly since he first decided to become a minstrel and it never bothered him before."

"Perhaps, in your warg-ish ways, you did not stop to think that it was inappropriate to mock him in front of a complete stranger, or what with the current way you've been treating him, he might not take it as a joke, but rather a barbed insult."

"First, Legolas is just a child and Lindir spent the entire morning with him. They are no more strangers than you and I."

"You are right," Erestor snapped. "The relationship between Legolas and Lindir, who met for the first time two days ago, is quite like ours, particularly since you have been quite estranged from me since returning from the plains of Mordor."

"What does Mordor have to do with this discussion?"

"You tell me," Erestor countered. "You have acted aloof from everyone since the war and all have noticed it, especially Lindir. I assume Elrond already knows the reason, as he has not been whining to me about not knowing. I would like to know as well, for Lindir is my aide, and it does me no good to have documents full of holes."

"If I tell you, you must not tell Lindir," Glorfindel replied with resignation.

"It depends on what you tell me."

"Fine, I will tell you."

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Thank you:  
**Arian** – I agree… poor Lindir does need lots of hugs.

**Arialas** – I always enjoy the kid stories too. :) I'm glad you're enjoying this one.

**Nimrodel** – Thank you for your great compliments.


	10. Chapter Ten

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous and translations are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Ten**

Celebrían's maternal instincts alerted her to the distressed sounds coming from the nursery, drawing her from her peaceful rest. She slid gracefully from the large bed she shared with her husband and hurried to the smaller room where she discovered the blond elfling struggling through a nightmare.

"Legolas," she said softly, jostling his arm to wake him. "Legolas." The elfling jolted awake, crying out in the dark. "Child, it is I, Celebrían," the Lady of Imladris said softly, brushing matted hair away from his forehead. "You are safe here."

"He tried to kill me," Legolas whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut as if it would stop the dream from replaying in his mind.

"Oh, _mirë_," Celebrían sympathized, wanting to cry herself as she witnessed the child's anguish. She hugged him tightly to her and rocked slightly back and forth until Legolas' tears faded and his breathing evened out, though he was still awake. "Would you like to tell me of your dream?"

"He was here, in Imladris, and he wanted to kill me," Legolas told her around hiccups and sniffles. Celebrían stopped him from wiping his nose on the back of his night-shift's sleeve and located a handkerchief for him instead.

"The same one who killed your nanny?" Celebrían asked, sitting next to him again and wrapping her arms around him.

"Yes." Legolas shuddered as the memories assailed him in combinations of real events and horrible nightmares.

"You know who killed her?" Celebrían questioned with both hope and despair. If Legolas knew who the murderer was, it would be simple to send word to Thranduil. However, there must be some reason why Legolas hadn't told his father immediately.

"He came in my room and Merilië tried to make him leave, but he stabbed her," Legolas hiccupped. "He said that if I told anyone who he was, he would kill my _ada_."

"I see," Celebrían replied softly, stroking his silky locks. She did see… she now understood why Legolas hadn't told anyone about the murderer yet. Even though a logical adult would understand that the threat was empty, a child would take it to heart. "You know, Legolas, it is only you and I here in this room. If you tell me, he will never know and I know that by telling someone such an important secret, it makes you feel much better."

"He said if I told _anyone_," Legolas stressed, wiping at his eyes.

"How would he know if you whispered it in my ear? We can pretend you were telling me a silly joke and none would be the wiser of our little trick."

"I do not know," Legolas hesitated. He did not know what he would do if his father left him, just as his mother, and now Merilië had.

"I promise Legolas, that if you whisper to me who killed your nanny, in a few days all of your problems will go away and your father will not be harmed at all."

"Truly?"

"Truly," Celebrían smiled. Legolas frowned and for a moment Celebrían worried that she was have to try a different tactic, but Legolas seemed to trust her and eventually he nodded slowly. He turned in her arms so he could whisper the name of his nanny's murderer in her ear. "Thank you, _mirë_," Celebrían smiled, placing a kiss on his temple. Legolas, however, seemed rather shaken, as if he expected the mysterious character to suddenly burst through the nursery door, waving a dagger threateningly. Noticing this, Celebrían picked him up and settled him on her hip before walking out of the nursery and heading towards the balcony. Legolas clung to her nervously, feeling very exposed on the open balcony. However, he also felt safe with Celebrían and he had seen Elrond lying on the bed in the room. If anyone attacked them, he or she would not be able to escape again.

"Has anyone ever told you the stories of the stars, my prince?" Celebrían asked, turning his attention towards the glittering white specks scattered throughout the pitch black sky.

"Some," Legolas replied.

"Then I shall tell you a few more. Do you see that bright star over there?" She pointed with her free hand and Legolas nodded to show he could see which star she meant. "That is the star of Eärendil. He was Elrond's father…"

"Nightmares?" Elrond questioned when Celebrían returned to bed an hour later, after putting a drowsy Legolas back in the nursery.

"Yes. He told me who killed that poor elf-maid."

"He knew?"

"He witnessed the whole thing but the murderer threatened to harm Thranduil if Legolas told anyone, so of course, he didn't."

"How did you convince him to tell you?"

"I told him that the elf would never know if he whispered the name to me and we pretended it was a secret joke between us."

"So it was an elf?" Elrond questioned, his heart sinking. He could not believe another elf had resorted to kinslaying after the terror caused by the last wave of slaughter.

"Yes," Celebrían sighed. "We should send word to Thranduil immediately."

"I will do that first thing in the morning," Elrond promised. They both lay there in the silence, unable to sleep now that both were awake, even though the sun still was a few hours away from rising.

"Did you know that Elrohir fancies one of the _elleth_ from the East?"

"I did not. When did you learn that?"

"Tonight at the Hall of Fire. He was exchanging looks with her all night and in jest I called him on it and he turned the most delightful shade of pink," Celebrían laughed.

"I'm sure he did. Elladan was always the more outgoing when it came to the young maidens," Elrond smiled.

"Legolas informed him that all _elleth_ are yucky, so he should not be embarrassed to insist he didn't like the one I pointed out."

"I almost wish the twins were still at that age," Elrond admitted. "They have grown so fast."

"They have, but they have grown into beautiful young elves. I do believe it is time to start educating them on the proper way to court the maidens."

"Maybe in a few more years," Elrond cringed. Celebrían laughed and leaned over to kiss him.

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Translations:  
_mirë_ (Q) – "precious thing"  
_elleth_ (S) – "elf-maid"

Thank you:  
**Arian** – Glorfindel wasn't very nice, I agree. Fortunately, things look up for Lindir soon.

**Arialas** – Lol, thank you!

**Ellfine** – It is about time Glorfindel told someone, so he can start getting over it. Thanks for the review. :)

**Seeing-spots** – Everyone feels for Lindir… I'm glad, because that means I've created a character that people can relate to. Very soon, Lindir gets a surprise visitor who brightens his spirits for a bit.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
**_Deception and Heartbreak_**

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

I hope everyone in the US had a good 4th of July weekend!

**Chapter Eleven**

A large brass bell, located near the main courtyard, began to ring late in the afternoon, alerting all in the hidden valley that travelers had arrived. "Menelluin's escort must have arrived," Erestor stated, looking up from the trade agreement he was checking for Elrond.

"Let us go greet them," Elrond spoke, obviously pleased to be able to temporarily stop working on the boring trade reports. Lindir and Erestor exchanged a look and Erestor made an expression of exasperation before standing to follow his lord. Lindir went as well, eager to greet the escort for whom they had been preparing the feast for so many days.

The party that clattered into the courtyard was larger than the one that had set out a few months prior. A few of the Galadhrim had made the trip as well, eager for a chance to visit the beautiful refuge. Elrond stepped forward to greet Menelluin and the others, welcoming them to Imladris. Lindir and Erestor made their way over to where Glorfindel was standing with Celebrían and Legolas.

"Look who is among the 'Lórien warriors," Celebrían exclaimed, looking towards one of the younger Galadhrim, dressed in the customary grays of Lothlórien. The warrior chose that moment to look in her direction and he smiled. He slid from his horse and walked over, the stallion following him complacently.

"_Mae govannen_, little brother(1)," Celebrían smiled, hugging him closely and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"How many times have I asked you not to call me that?" the warrior asked good naturedly.

"Not enough," Celebrían grinned.

"_Mae govannen_, Rúmil," Lindir spoke up, drawing his old friend's attention to him. The youngest of the well-known 'Lórien brothers was only six years older than Lindir and the two had become fast friends over the decades, when either Lindir would accompany Glorfindel to Lothlórien or Rúmil acted as an escort from the mystical forest to Imladris.

"Lindir, how fare you?" Rúmil asked.

"Well enough. How long are you here for?"

"As long as Elrond will have me," Rúmil grinned. "I have many things to tell you."

"They better not be bad things," Celebrían warned, giving the most rambunctious of the three brothers a knowing look. Rúmil gave her an innocent smile.

"Of course not, my lady." He turned to Glorfindel and Erestor. "_Mae govannen_, my lords. It pleases me to see you well."

"_Mae govannen_," Erestor and Glorfindel spoke at the same time, though Glorfindel's tone was a bit more gruff than Erestor's.

"And who, my lady, is this?" Rúmil questioned, finally addressing the youngster clutching Celebrían's hand. He knelt down so he was eye level with Legolas.

"I am Legolas Thranduilion," the blond prince said proudly. Even at his young age Legolas must have realized that there was not much love lost between his father and Celeborn, the lord of Lothlórien, and his father must have convinced him that the Galadhrim were not to be trusted.

"Really?" Rúmil replied, a sly smile slowly spreading across his face. "I am pleased you meet you, my prince."

"My _ada_ says that the Gal-"

"Oh, I am sure your father has wonderful things to say about the Galadhrim," Celebrían interjected, catching the prince under the arms and lifting him to her hip.

"Wonderful things indeed," Rúmil said sarcastically. "Would you like to hear what the Galadhrim think of your father, little prince?"

"No, I am sure he would not," Celebrían answered for Legolas. "Behave yourself, Rúmil." Legolas scowled at the 'Lórien warrior. Rúmil gave him a dark look.

"Come, Rúmil, and tell me of your adventures," Lindir interjected, trying to drag his friend away. He didn't want Rúmil to upset the little prince and in turn, upset Celebrían. Rúmil conceded, allowing Lindir to lead him to the stables where his stallion would be quartered during his stay in Imladris.

"Rúmil!" they heard shouted towards them when they were about halfway to the stables. The twins appeared on the path before them, faces flushed with excitement at seeing the familiar Galadhrim solider.

"_Naucos_!" Rúmil laughed. "Look how big you are." He pinched Elladan's cheek. The older twin laughed and pushed his hand away. His large gray eyes held insurmountable idolization for the older elf. Sometimes Lindir didn't understand why the twins looked up to Rúmil and his brothers, for Haldir wanted nothing to do with them, Rúmil teased them mercilessly, and Orophin had only met them one time. However, Lindir had witnessed some of the rare occasions when the brothers actually showed the twins compassion and he figured that was enough for Elrond's sons, who wanted nothing more to grow up to be as renowned for their battle skills as one of the Galadhrim.

"When did you arrive?" Elrohir asked.

"Just a few minutes ago," Rúmil replied. He pretended to look critically at the younger twin. "Wait, do not tell me… Elladan is it not?" Elrohir's face fell. "Oh, I am simply joking," Rúmil laughed, ruffling Elrohir's hair. "I could never mistake you for your brother." Elrohir brightened slightly at this.

"Tell us of what you've done since the last time we met," Elladan begged.

"Perhaps I will later," Rúmil promised. "Now, I am quite tired and wish to sleep before the festivities in the Hall of Fire." The twins looked disappointed but neither pushed the matter, respecting their guest's wishes to refresh himself.

"I am sure your mother is looking for you. It is nearly time for dinner," Lindir said to the twins.

"Will you be at dinner, Rúmil?" Elladan questioned hopefully.

"If I am able to wash before then," Rúmil replied. "Run along now, lest your mother worry."

"She doesn't worry about us. We are almost to our majority," Elladan insisted.

"She does worry about you," Lindir corrected. "Now shoo."

"Fine, fine," Elladan sighed. "We can take a hint. Come, 'Ro, I will race you back to the house."

"On my count," Elrohir insisted.

"Go!" Elladan shouted without thought for his brother's statement. Elrohir frowned and took off after his twin, leaving the two older blonds alone on the path.

"They really have gotten big," Rúmil mused, watching their retreating backs. "How old are they again?"

"Forty-three," Lindir replied. They continued to the stables in companionable silence.

_**tbc… **_

(1) I don't actually believe Haldir, Orophin, and Rúmil are true siblings of Celebrían, but I like the idea that perhaps the brothers lost their parents when Rúmil was still small and Galadriel and Celeborn took them in as their own.

please review.

Thank you:  
**Arian** – You'll find out near the end of the story.

**Arialas** – Hehe, you'll have to be in suspense for a few more chapters!

**Seeing-spots** – That would be an interesting idea… of course, now you know that the visitor isn't tied to the murder, but that would have been a neat twist. I wish I'd thought of it. :(

**Andromedia** – He feels a bit better, but he's not entirely sure his _ada_ is in the clear yet.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Twelve**

Lindir answered the knock on his bedroom door early in the morning to find Celebrían and a sleepy looking Legolas on the other side. "Good morning dear," Celebrían greeted. "I hate to ask this of you, but could you watch Legolas for a few hours this morning?"

"It is no trouble," Lindir answered. "Rúmil and I were going to go down to the river so we would be out of the way of the final feast preparations."

"That sounds wonderful," Celebrían smiled. "I will come find you when I am finished."

"That's fine," Lindir nodded. "Are you tired, Legolas?" he asked the prince once Celebrían had left.

"No, I am fine," Legolas replied quietly.

"You don't seem very fine," Lindir commented, wondering why the youngster seemed so downcast.

"I am," Legolas insisted. Lindir decided to not bother him about it anymore.

* * *

"So, do you always have to watch the Mirkwood runt?" Rúmil asked as he walked down the path towards the river with Lindir and Legolas. At the question, Legolas turned at glared at him around Lindir, who had a tight grasp on his hand.

"No, just when Celebrían is busy. I don't mind though," Lindir replied. "We had fun last time, didn't we?" he asked Legolas, hoping to distract the elfling from the focus of his harsh glare. He was somewhat surprised that one so small could look so angry.

"Yes," Legolas answered shortly. He didn't know why the dumb 'Lorien guard had to come with them that morning. Rúmil shrugged as if he didn't believe Lindir but wasn't going to say anything about it.

"When are you going home Legolas?" Rúmil questioned.

"When my _ada_ comes to get me."

They reached the river at that point and Rúmil immediately began stripping down to just his loincloth, intent on enjoying the cool river as the morning air was already rather warm.

"Do you want to swim?" Lindir asked Legolas.

"No, I will just watch," Legolas replied.

"You are sure?"

"Yes." Legolas offered him a weak smile and once again Lindir wondered what was wrong with him, but he still refrained from saying anything.

"Stay close to the bank," Lindir instructed.

"I'm going to sit under that tree," Legolas told him, pointing to an old oak that was a few feet away from the riverbank. Lindir nodded and then stripped down to his own loincloth to join Rúmil in the water. Rúmil immediately started splashing his old friend and Lindir wasted no time in retaliating. It felt good to relax in the cool water.

"So tell me of your recent adventures," Lindir requested once the splashing war had ended and the two simply let the shallow river water run over them.

"Well," Rúmil started, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "I have mainly been on patrol, guarding the borders of 'Lorien. From the east there is heightened orc activity and no shortage of warg attacks. Fortunately, the fell beasts still seem somewhat nervous along the edges of the forest, so none have tried to invade. Most of the foolish creatures are already injured, having escaped death but not pain at the hands of the Mirkwood warriors."

"Does not Mirkwood ask for aid?" Lindir questioned.

"From Celeborn? Nay, they do not," Rúmil replied with a cynical laugh. "It greatly surprises me that Thranny dumped the pipsqueak off here."

"Such disrespect," Lindir tsked, shaking his head with an amused smirk.

"I will show you disrespect," Rúmil laughed, grabbing Lindir and dunking him under the water. Lindir twisted out of his grasp and tried to return the favor but Rúmil was difficult to overpower, what with all of his years of warrior training. Lindir ended up spending more time held underwater than his friend, but he did manage to best Rúmil a few times.

"We should head back to the house," Lindir suggested after a while. "We are definitely not in a state to attend a feast."

"I think we should skip the feast. Menelluin is a pompous old elf anyway," Rúmil suggested, stretching out to float on his back.

"You and your opinions of others," Lindir laughed, sending a small wave of water at his friend. "It is no wonder Glorfindel regards you with such trepidation. Besides, the last time Legolas missed a meal, Elrond nearly had an anxiety attack. I do not want his anger focused on me."

"Oh, right. I had forgotten about the tot." Rúmil and Lindir both looked over to the large oak tree. Lindir was relieved to see his charge curled up against one of the roots. Had he forgotten about one of the twins at Legolas' age, it would have been a disaster.

"He is much more well-behaved than either of the twins," Lindir commented. "They could not have been left unattended for so long without getting into trouble."

"I recall stories of the twins that Celebrían would relate to Galadriel," Rúmil laughed. "Why is he sleeping?"

"He is tired," Lindir shrugged. "I do not think he slept well last night, though he would not confide in me as to what bothers him."

"He probably misses his cave," Rúmil jested, but there was not much humor in his voice. Lindir smirked. Rúmil liked to pretend he was above caring for others but his selfish attitude hid a very selfless heart.

The two elves left the river and dried off as well as they could before dressing. Lindir collected their over tunics, which were left off in favor of just wearing their silk undershirts. Rúmil knelt down beside the sleeping prince and poked him gently in the side. Legolas' brow furrowed minutely but he didn't stir.

"Let him be," Lindir chastised. "Here, take these clothes so I can pick him up."

"I will carry him," Rúmil offered. He lifted the elfling up and settled him against his chest, making sure Legolas' head rested comfortably on his shoulder.

"You like him after all," Lindir teased.

"No," Rúmil laughed. "I plan to inform Thranny on my next visit to Mirkwood that I was responsible for his precious son at one point. It will surely incite him to great anger."

"You are such an antagonist," Lindir accused him, shaking his head mirthfully.

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Thank you:  
**Arian** – Yeah, thinks are looking up for Lindir.

**Arialas** – Even I'm not sure exactly what has happened between Thranduil and Celeborn, but the rift is fun to write about.

**Seeing-spots** – I agree… I like how it also makes the three seem like more major characters who would actually be friendly with the other Elvish lords and ladies.

**Andromedia** – I'm glad you like Rúmil. I think he's a cutie, lol. It's also entertaining to write the conversations between him and Legolas.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

_My thoughts and prayers go out to the citizens of London, England. I'll be seeing you all in a few weeks. :) _

**Chapter Thirteen**

"You must make sure that no one but Thranduil sees this message," Celebrían told the messenger who was preparing to depart for Mirkwood. "If you are refused audience with the king, refuse to part with the message. If questioned, say it is a private note from the Lady of Imladris, concerning the well-being of the prince."

"Yes, my lady," the messenger bowed. "By your leave?"

"Go quickly, my friend," Celebrían replied. "May the Valar bless you." The messenger turned and mounted his horse, kicked the horse into a gallop, and disappeared from the courtyard. Celebrían took a deep breath before returning to the kitchens where she was helping with the final touches of the feast.

"Nana!" she heard called as she rounded the corner to head into the main kitchen. She turned to see one of the twins hurrying towards her.

"What is it, child?" she questioned.

"_Ada_ says I am to help you in the kitchens this morning," Elrohir informed her. Celebrían smirked at this.

"That is not what he told me this morning. You and your brother are supposed to be helping set up in the dining hall."

"He has changed his mind," Elrohir insisted, his large pewter-colored eyes begging her to acquiesce.

"Well, if that is the case, what can I say?" she smiled. "Come child, and I will show you how to make a treat any _elleth_ will love."

"I am not a child," Elrohir argued. "And this has nothing to do with an _elleth_."

"No? How convenient that the little redhead is also helping her mother cook today." Elrohir couldn't stop the flush rising in his cheeks despite his insistences that he had no idea she would be there as well today.

* * *

Menelluin was very pleased with the feast Imladris held in his honor. He tried to hide that fact by critiquing the assortment of pies or fresh fruits and complaining that he would not have chosen veal as the main meat, but he could not hide his smile for long. He ate more than anyone else, claiming that he was ravished from the long trip back from Lothlórien. None believed him and by the time the minstrels, including Lindir, started playing upbeat dancing songs, the whole of Imladris was in merry spirits. Many of the elves started intricate dances, spinning around the garden in flashes of brilliant blues, reds, and greens.

Elrond asked Celebrían for a dance. She accepted and her husband whisked her into the middle of dancers, leaving little Legolas in the care of Erestor. At one point, during a fast spin, Celebrían happened to glance upon her younger child. "Elrond, look at Elrohir," she laughed gaily. Elrond glanced over her shoulder on the next turn to see the twin sitting rather close to the redheaded _elleth_, their heads bowed together as they exchanged secret words.

"I see he has inherited his father's skill with the fairer sex," Elrond commented, risking missing a step to lean in and kiss his beautiful wife.

"If you call your minute luck a skill," Celebrían teased. "I don't recall being very impressed the first time I met you."

"I don't recall trying to impress you," Elrond retorted with a sly smile.

"No, you were trying to drown one of my father's Galadhrim."

"I was not _drowning_ him," Elrond laughed. "I was trying to clean out a wound in his side and he suddenly fainted."

"A likely story," Celebrían grinned. "Look how adorable they are," she changed the subject.

"Quite cute," Elrond agreed. To be honest, he'd rather his youngest _not_ be interested in females for at least another ten centuries. Elladan spent enough time flirting with the young maidens for both of them.

"I want another one," Celebrían sighed wistfully.

"Another what?" Elrond asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Baby, of course."

"Aren't two enough?"

"No," Celebrían pouted. "I want a little girl." Elrond couldn't respond because their oldest, Elladan, appeared suddenly, requesting to dance with his mother. Elrond gracefully bowed out, returning to Erestor's side as Celebrían tried to lead Elladan through the complicated steps of the new dance.

"How are you doing, Legolas?" Elrond inquired, brushing a hand over the elfling's head.

"I am well," he replied softly.

"Are you still tired?" Lindir had informed the lord of how Legolas had slept most of the morning down by the river.

"No," Legolas shook his head. "I like watching the dancers."

"They are quite a sight, are they not?" Elrond agreed.

On the makeshift 'dance floor' Celebrían guided her son through the steps of the dance, impressed by how quickly he picked up the pattern and how gracefully he was able to execute the twists. "You are doing very well, Elladan," she complimented him.

"Thank you," he replied with a tight smile. He didn't want to distract himself too much.

"Relax, sweetness," Celebrían encouraged. He did so gradually, becoming slightly more confident as the movement became more enjoyable. "Much better."

"It is," he agreed, finally taking his eyes away from his feet and looking up at his mother.

"So tell me, what do you think of your brother's new friend?" If Elrohir had confided in anyone, it would have been his twin.

Elladan glanced over at the two youths sitting on the stone bench, still speaking in soft voices. He turned back to Celebrían, surprising his mother with his answer. "I do not like her," Elladan said seriously.

"Why ever not?" Celebrían asked. Her first thought was that perhaps Elladan was jealous, but she quickly pushed that thought away. Elladan had always been more comfortable with the _ellyth_ and had simply chosen not to become serious with any of them. Besides that, Elladan was hardly ever given to jealousy. If either were to envy the other, Elrohir would be the one in the company of the little green monster.

"I do not believe she is as serious about 'Ro as he is about her," Elladan responded.

"Perhaps she simply needs more time to know him," Celebrían suggested.

"No, I do not believe so. I have told no one this because I do not want to upset Elrohir, but just two nights ago I was seated by myself on the balcony of the Hall of Fire and that _elleth_ came to me," he confided to his mother. Celebrían did not miss the way he nearly spat the word _elleth_. "At first, I thought she simply confused me with Elrohir in the dim lighting, but even after I gently turned her away she continued to force her presence upon me. I came to the conclusion that she did not care who I was, as long as I was one of the 'twins.'"

"That is quite an accusation," Celebrían frowned. She looked upon her youngest again, now regarding the young maiden in a new light.

"She does not care for Elrohir, but rather for father's influence in the world. I do not like her, but we must not say anything to Elrohir. He will not take it well and accuse us of not wanting his happiness."

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Thank you:  
**Arialas** – Legolas hasn't been sleeping well because his nightmares about the murder and he's worried about Thranduil now that he let the cat out of the bag.

**Andromedia** – I hope your computer didn't suffer too much damage!

**Coolio** – I'm really glad my portrayal of Rúmil has been so well received. Thank you so much for taking the time to review.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Fourteen**

A lazy few weeks had passed since the feast for Menelluin. Lindir spent most of his mornings in the company of Legolas and Rúmil, either down by the river or in his room, teaching Legolas more music while Rúmil lounged on his bed. The young prince of Mirkwood and the guardian of 'Lorien had come to a truce and tolerated each other's company. Lindir knew it was because Rúmil had stopped picking on the elfling and Legolas, wanting nothing more to be accepted by the older elves, had ceased glaring disdainfully at the warrior. Rúmil had even practiced archery a few times with him when Glorfindel was too busy.

In the afternoons Lindir suffered in Elrond's study, copying numerous scrolls into books. He would have much rather been out in the sun with Rúmil or even the twins. However, in the study he was always privy to the breaking news in the hidden valley. Such was the case this afternoon, when a messenger from the borders of the valley arrived, accompanied by Elrond's younger son.

"My lord," the warrior spoke, nodding his head in respect. "Thranduil's party entered the valley just an hour ago. They will reach the house shortly."

"Thank you," Elrond replied and dismissed the warrior. "Elrohir, son, would you kindly fetch Legolas from the archery range? He will want to greet his father when he arrives."

"Yes, _Ada_," Elrohir sighed. Elrond raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Is there something you wanted, Elrohir?"

"I was going to ask Erestor for another book."

"Another? I gave you one two nights ago," Erestor exclaimed. "Do you do anything besides read, child?"

"Yes, and I am not a child," Elrohir answered. "I read quickly, besides."

"Fine, I will find you a book in Westron. It should take you longer to work through," Erestor decided. "You can pick it up tonight. I shall bring it to the Hall of Fire."

"Thank you, Erestor."

"You are welcome. Now, are you not supposed to be on an errand for your father?"

"Why don't you send Lindir? I am sure he is tired of copying scrolls," Elrohir asked, winking at the blond elf. Lindir shook his head but couldn't hide his smile.

"Because I asked you to, precious child of mine," Elrond answered, moving around the desk and maneuvering his son towards the door. "I cannot spare Lindir at the moment, his help is too crucial." Elrond escorted Elrohir out of the room and closed the door firmly behind him. "I say," he complained, "they become more trying every day. Do not smirk at me, Erestor."

Lindir bent low over his papers so the elf lord wouldn't see his grin.

* * *

"My _ada_ is coming today," Legolas informed the balrog-slayer.

"Are you eager to return to Mirkwood?" Glorfindel questioned as he carefully strung his long bow.

"I miss my father greatly," Legolas replied. "But I have enjoyed myself here for the most part."

"I am glad to hear that, little prince."

"Lord Glorfindel, may I ask you a question?"

"You just did, _cundu_," Glorfindel pointed out.

"What's that?"

"What is what?"

"_Cundu_."

"Are they not teaching you Quenya in that dreary forest?" Glorfindel questioned.

"They are, but I do not know that word," Legolas frowned.

"Well, it means 'prince.' Was that your question?"

"No."

"Well then, you may ask it, if you wish."

"I do." Legolas paused as if he was trying to summon his courage to ask the question that had been plaguing him ever since he started spending more time in the company of both Lindir and Glorfindel. "Why do you act so strange around Lindir?"

"I act strange around Lindir?"

"Yes, and he is always angry with you."

"He is always angry with me?"

"Yes," Legolas answered with exasperation. "Do not repeat everything I say, I will not be distracted." Glorfindel then realized that he had seen Thranduil employ that exact evasion technique before. No doubt Legolas knew its purpose well.

"You are quite the precocious little imp, are you not? Since you have caught me, I shall confess." Glorfindel set down his bow and regarded the youngster before him. Legolas waited patiently for the explanation. "You see, Lindir and I have a long history and recently events have occurred that have created distance between us. I sorely wish it were not so, but these things are out of my power to control." Legolas didn't miss how regretful Glorfindel looked. Despite the older elf not answering his question to his satisfaction, Legolas decided to change the topic.

"Will you show me this new technique, then?"

"Of course," Glorfindel smiled. He was very relieved to change the subject. Just thinking of his frayed ties to the minstrel made Glorfindel's heart ache. He reminded himself again that it was for the best that he turn the younger elf away, though each day it grew harder to accept. "Is your bow strung?"

"It is," Legolas replied, holding out his child-sized bow for the warrior to inspect.

"Good. Now, I want you to hold the bow like this," Glorfindel said, demonstrating the new hold. Legolas copied his grip. "Now, fit the arrow-"

"GLORFINDEL!" The golden warrior started violently, nearly dropping his bow and arrow. He jerked around to see who was bothering them while Legolas covered his mouth with his hands to stifle the giggles trying to escape as he watched the dark haired elf approach.

"Elrohir, you little bit of _ráca fincë-apsa_," Glorfindel scowled.

"I love you too, Glorfy," Elrohir grinned.

"State your business so I can get on with spitting you with this arrow."

"Such malcontent, and in front of one so young!" Elrohir chided, covering Legolas' ears with his hands. "You'll give him nightmares!"

"No he won't. What did he say?" Legolas questioned, twisting his neck to look up at the twin. He was just beginning to be able to tell them apart and even if Glorfindel hadn't already named him, Legolas was sure he would have known it was Elrohir and not Elladan.

"Oh, you mean _ráca fincë-apsa_?"

"Yes."

"Something not very nice, I assure you," Elrohir answered. "Glorfindel's always spewing out some Quenya of sorts." The balrog-slayer did not look amused.

"Do you know Quenya?" Legolas asked curiously.

"Fluently," Elrohir replied conspiratorially. Legolas grinned.

"Come now, what is your business?" Glorfindel demanded with annoyance.

"_Ada_ sent me to fetch the prince. King Thranduil of Mir- Greenwood arrives shortly."

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Thank you:  
**Arialas** – You had me worried with your first statement, but then you had me smiling with the rest of your review. I really appreciate your supportive comments.

**Nimrodel** – Don't worry, Rúmil will be back. I agree, that _elleth _does need her ears pulled. :)

**Arian** – So many conspiracies! Lol, well I can tell you that she isn't involved. Thranduil will explain when he arrives. :)

**Amy** – I'm so grateful that you pointed out trouble spots in the story. Hopefully I can clear some of that up. First, yes, Elrohir did trick Lindir into going down to the river with him, but Lindir truly didn't mind (Chapter 3). Thranduil sent Legolas to Imladris because they don't know what's going on in Mirkwood, and Thranduil thinks Legolas will be safest with Elrond. However, that isn't a permanent arrangement. Legolas will be going home as soon as the murderer is caught. As for your reviews of Ch 6 and 13, thank you for the compliments and you're in luck. I'm under a huge time constraint and originally I wanted the whole story (19 chaps) posted before I leave for Europe on the 15th. I don't know if that will happen, but definitely expect at least a chapter a day for the rest of the week.

**Seeing-spots** – Lol, I'm falling for Rúmil too! He's featured lots in Severence, so we can all look forward to that. He cracks me up even when I'm writing. :p

Translations:  
1 _cundu _Q"prince"

2 _ráca fincë-apsa _Q "wolf trick-food" ie, wolf-bait


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Fifteen**

Glorfindel had sent Elrohir and Legolas on ahead of him. He needed time to regain his composure before meeting one of his _favorite_ elves of all time, the king of Mirkwood. Of course, his ire at the woodland elf didn't have _anything_ to do with Thranduil showering Elrond with some choice words a few decades ago. Glorfindel did not appreciate others making threats towards one of the Peredhil, even if the threats were idle.

The tension between his father and new friend were completely lost on Legolas as he practically dragged Elrohir back to the main house. Elrohir gracefully complied with the silent request for haste until something, or rather someone, caught his attention.

"Legolas, wait," Elrohir hissed, pulling the prince back behind a carefully pruned bush that acted as a natural barrier to one of the gardens in front of the main house.

"We must meet my father!" Legolas insisted.

"Sh! He will not arrive for a few more minutes," Elrohir assured the younger elf in a tense whisper. "He was still near the border when I left to find you."

"What do you see?" Legolas asked, resigning to his host's delay. He peered around the large leaves to see a red-headed young _elleth_ sitting on one of the stone benches. She held a pad and a bit of charcoal but she seemed to have given up sketching for the moment. "I thought you did not like her."

"I don't, now hush," Elrohir replied.

"Why are we hiding in a bush? Why do you not just go speak with her?" Legolas questioned, irritated. Sometimes the older elves were so foolish. Maidens were gross anyway.

"You must be quiet," Elrohir scolded. "Look, someone approaches."

"It is your brother," Legolas stated matter-of-factly.

"Thank you," Elrohir replied sarcastically. "I thought he looked somewhat familiar." Legolas scowled at the half-elf. "She has noticed him as well."

"Are you sure it is not the tree she finds so interesting?" Legolas taunted.

"Please be quiet," Elrohir pleaded, finally looking away from the _elleth_ and at the young prince. "I promise we will go to meet your father soon."

"Fine," Legolas acquiesced. Elrohir gave him a tight smile before looking back to the object of his timid affections. To his surprise, she had left the bench and was walking quickly towards Elladan. He watched her progress curiously.

"My lord!" the maiden greeted as she stopped before the half-elf.

"My lady," Elladan replied. He made to step around her but she grabbed his arm.

"Where are you headed, my lord?" she inquired.

"I am not Elrohir so you may continue on your way," Elladan informed her, pulling his arm away somewhat harshly. The _elleth_ was not fazed.

"It is not Elrohir I seek," she countered. "It is you I wished to know better. Are you not the older brother and therefore your father's heir?"

"If it is I you wish to know, then why do you act so attracted to my brother? Or is he just a means to an end?" The last sentence was said with a sneer and the young female realized she may have pushed too far. She had not expected Elladan to chose his brother over her.

Without denying the accusation and thereby confirming it to all who listened, she cried, "It does not matter who I end up with in the end, but I know you desire me!"

"You disgust me," Elladan snapped. "Let me pass."

"I will prove it!" she exclaimed and lunged forward, cupping her hands around Elladan's face and smashing her lips to his in a desperate kiss.

Legolas grew worried when his companion's face turned the color of freshly fallen snow. The younger twin could do nothing but watch in horror, his jaw unhinged, as Elladan grabbed the _elleth_ by her shoulders and shoved her away angrily, raining livid words down on her head. She was nearly shaking by the time the older twin had finished his tirade and stormed away, back to the halls of his home.

"Elrohir?" Legolas whispered, nudging the older elf slightly. "Elrohir?"

"What?" The younger twin started, coming out of his state of shock and glancing over at the prince. "Oh, sorry. Come on, I'm sure your father is here by now." Elrohir grabbed Legolas' hand and dragged him out of the bush. This time he set the quick pace to the Last Homely House.

"Elrohir, slow down! You will make me trip," Legolas protested as he struggled to keep up with the taller elf's strides.

"I am sorry, Legolas." He slowed his pace minutely.

"No, stop!" Legolas dug his heels into the stone walkway, pulling back on the twin's hand.

"I'm sorry," Elrohir repeated, stopping and turning to look back at the prince.

"No, I'm sorry," Legolas retorted. He wrapped his arms around the older elf's waist in a tight hug. Elrohir was surprised for a moment, but then he returned the hug. Legolas didn't let go until he felt Elrohir pulling away. The older elf dropped to his haunches so he was eye level with the elfling.

"It's fine, Legolas," Elrohir assured him, brushing loose strands of hair from Legolas' furrowed brow. He gave the blond a weak smile. "_Ellyth_ are yucky anyway, aren't they?"

"Yes," Legolas replied hesitantly. Elrohir stood and took the prince's hand again, this time proceeding at a normal walking pace. They encountered an elf passing through the main courtyard.

"Has King Thranduil arrived yet?" Elrohir questioned the elf.

"Yes. I believe he is currently being entertained by your father in the library, young lord," the elf replied. His tone belayed his lack of pleasure at having the king of all wood elves within their borders.

"Thank you," Elrohir nodded. He guided Legolas into the large building and through the halls to the homey library. Legolas' joy to greet his father had lessened greatly by the concern he felt for the half-elf leading him. Elrohir was acting remarkably collected but Legolas sensed that internally he was near to breaking. 'Stupid _elleth_,' he thought darkly. He wanted nothing to do with them.

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Thank you:

**Arialas** – I get my Quenya from www-dot-geocities-dot-com/aikanaro42/dictionary and my Sindarin from Dragon Flame, a program you can download from the Sindarin Dictionary Project at www-dot-jrrvf-dot-com/hisweloke/sindar/ . Other than that, I just search for the words I want. I hope this helps.

**Seeing-spots** – You can use my translation if you like. I can just imagine Glorfindel getting irritated with his horse, lol. Fortunately, Legolas is a bit too young for this _elleth_.

**Coolio** – Lol, I'm glad you liked Glorfindel's name for Elrohir.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

_A/N: I hate to post two chapters at a time (though you guys probably don't mind ;) ) but due to my time constraints, it's the only way I can finish posting the whole story before I leave. Enjoy._

**Chapter Sixteen**

"Elrohir should return shortly with Legolas," Elrond informed the Mirkwood king as he closed the door to the library. Thranduil nodded shortly and wandered over to one of the towering shelves, peering at the books displayed proudly. Celebrían took a seat in one of the high-backed chairs near a stone fireplace. The embers glowed, but the library was warm enough so they didn't bother to stroke the fire back to life.

"Would you tell us of what transpired in Greenwood?" Elrond requested, taking a seat in the chair beside his wife's.

"It was an ill-attempted coup," Thranduil said tiredly. "One of my lieutenants, Dûridhren, fell under the influence of the Dark Lord during the war. When Sauron was defeated, he realized his mistake and his guilt plagued him. Slowly, it drove him mad. He began to believe he was destined to be the next powerful enemy of the Free Peoples."

"How did he come to have access to private rooms of the palace?" Celebrían questioned curiously.

"He had been close to my father," Thranduil admitted. "I never fully trusted him, yet others around me did, so I allowed his presence in the palace. I will not doubt my instincts again."

"I understand the pressure advisors can place on a leader," Elrond said carefully, not wanting Thranduil to take offense to anything he said. "On many occasions I have experienced overzealous advisors." Thranduil nodded in agreement and Elrond breathed a little easier.

"Tell us, Thranduil, why did the elf attack Legolas' nanny?" Celebrían wanted to know.

"She was an unfortunate casualty," Thranduil replied thickly. He cleared his throat before continuing. Merilië and he were of an age and had been friends as elflings. She was one of the few he had entrusted the care of his son to after the queen had died. "Being close to the palace staff, Dûridhren knew my one weakness." Elrond wisely refrained from raising an eyebrow at Thranduil's insinuation that he only had one weakness.

"Legolas," Celebrían guessed. She could sympathize.

"Yes," Thranduil confirmed. "His goal was not to kill Merilië but to take Legolas hostage. He wanted me to abdicate." Before he could continue a maiden knocked on the door, bearing a tray of tea and small biscuits. Celebrían thanked her and then looked to Thranduil to continue.

"Now he waits in the dungeons. I am hesitant to banish him. Nothing would prevent him from trying to re-enter Greenwood."

"I understand your concerns," Elrond spoke. "Have you considered having him escorted to Mithlond?"

"I had not," Thranduil replied. He looked as if he was seriously considering the idea. Elrond smirked to himself internally.

The sound of the thick wooden door to the library opening alerted all in the room to the arrival of more company. Celebrían looked up from where she was pouring cups of tea for herself, Elrond, and Thranduil while Thranduil told them of the developments in Mirkwood. To her delight, it was the two elves they were waiting for. However, her happiness turned cold quickly as she regarded the newcomers. She set the tea kettle down heavily on the tray, not minding the hot liquid that sloshed over the sides of the cups and onto her hands.

"Elrohir, sweetheart, what's wrong?" she exclaimed as she hurried to his side, gracefully sidestepping the prince as he raced for his father's outstretched arms. All Legolas' fears of finding out his father had been maimed by the murderer because he had told Celebrían his identity fled upon seeing the king whole and healthy.

Elrohir shook his head, not trusting his voice now that he was confronted with his mother's overwhelming concern. "Oh, precious," Celebrían whispered, recalling the conversation she had had with Elladan on the night of the feast and knowing what bothered her son. "Come with me." She ushered him from the room, not even bothering to excuse herself from the company of her husband and the king.

"I wonder what that is all about," Thranduil frowned. He could tell from Elrond's stiff posture that he wanted to follow his wife and find out what troubled his youngest but he restrained himself for his guest.

"That _elleth_," Legolas answered angrily. He proceeded to tell the two lords what had transpired in the garden not fifteen minutes prior.

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Thank you:  
**Arialas** – Lol, it helps having the entire story written before I even begin posting, and also I'm leaving for a month in Europe on July 15th, and I want to have all the story posted before I go. I'd also like to post _Severance_, which is _this_ close to being completed.

**Seeing-spots** – I know what you speak of. As I go back and read some earlier stories I started, I cringe to see the Grey Elvish all over. My favorite is _mellonamin_, which I see every where. :)

**Coolio** – Elrohir will be okay for the most part.

**Arian** – Lol, you responded to 13 right as I posted 14, so I was unable to thank you for your review promptly. I don't know what Elrohir would have thought it the red-head was a murderer!


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

_A/N: I hate to post two chapters at a time (though you guys probably don't mind ;) ) but due to my time constraints, it's the only way I can finish posting the whole story before I leave. Enjoy._

**Chapter Seventeen**

"Has he arrived yet?" Glorfindel asked upon entering the Hall of Fire where Erestor was overseeing last minute decorations for the festivities that night. Thranduil had arrived too late in the day for a feast but the elves could still celebrate his safe journey with dancing and music. They could eat heartily tomorrow.

"He has," Erestor replied. "Where were you?"

"I was delayed."

"Oh, I see," Erestor said smugly.

"Do not take that tone with me," Glorfindel growled.

"Are you _growling_, _torco_?" Erestor questioned, pausing in his work to regard the warrior with a raised eyebrow.

"No… yes. You irritate me sometimes, _ango_."

"Only sometimes? I must be slipping."

"What has you in such a mood this night, Chief Advisor?"

"I was not able to hide away pathetically this afternoon, Seneschal."

"Pathetically, you say?" Glorfindel's eyes narrowed at the challenge.

"Pathetic… like a kicked puppy," Erestor smirked.

"Oh, 'Restor, I knew you were cruel, but victimizing baby animals? That is a new low."

"On the contrary, my simple minded friend. That was a simile. Please, allow me to explain since I know grammar was never one of your strengths."

"I know what a simile is," Glorfindel interrupted. "Here is an example: Erestor is annoying like a pregnant fly about to procreate on a frosted sweet roll."

"That is quite an amateur effort, my lord. Try this: Glorfindel is as dimwitted as a dwarf who has imbibed too much ale and was dropped on his head as a infant… multiple times."

"Are you two insulting each other with similes?" Lindir questioned from across the room where he was setting up the musicians' corner with the other minstrels.

"We are," Glorfindel answered, not looking the least bit ashamed at being caught acting so immaturely. If anyone called him on it, he could easily point at Erestor as well. "Whose do you think was better?"

"I think you are both acting like elflings who have been raised by wargs," Lindir replied.

"A simile!" Glorfindel exclaimed. "Come here and I will show you a simile," he threatened, stalking across the room towards the minstrel with a predatory grin.

"No, leave me alone. I am quite busy," Lindir insisted, trying to place a chair between himself and the balrog-slayer. Glorfindel was quicker and caught him around the waist, spinning around with the younger elf securely in his grip.

"Lindir is ticklish like a-"

"Stop!" Lindir cried out around laughs as the Elda's fingers dug into his sides. He struggled vainly to escape but Glorfindel was much stronger than him. The experienced warrior easily countered each twist of the lithe body within his grasp and continued his assault on the minstrel's most ticklish spots.

"Like a-"

"No no no!" Lindir protested as he struggled to catch his breath. "Stop before you-" A music stand crashed to the floor. "Knock something over."

"I think I'm missing something," Rúmil laughed as he entered the hall. Glorfindel finally ceased his attack and regarded the Galadhrim warrior coolly while supporting a gasping Lindir.

"No, you haven't missed a thing," Glorfindel replied. "I was just helping set up the musicians' corner." He ignored the reprimanding looks from the rest of the minstrels as they observed his "help."

"What was that crash?" Elrond demanded as he stepped into the brightly lit room. He was followed by Thranduil and Legolas.

"Glorfindel and Erestor were having an insulting simile contest and it got slightly out of hand," Rúmil informed the lord of Imladris. He had listened in amusement from one of the entryways before making his presence known. He glanced over at the king of Mirkwood. "Hey Thranduil," he greeted with a sly grin. "Has Legolas shown you the new archery trick I taught him yet?"

Thranduil looked incredulously at Elrond. "You let a Galadhrim with a bow within a league of my son?"

"Finally, my lord," Glorfindel smirked, throwing an arm across Thranduil's shoulders. "We agree on something."

* * *

Elladan followed the sound of his mother's melancholy song until he found himself standing below the balcony to his parents' bedroom. He couldn't see her standing on the open platform, but at least he knew she was within the suite. He glanced at the towering tree off to the right of the balcony. It was the quickest way up.

Elladan had ignored the strange ache in his heart as long as he could, knowing it came from his strong link with his twin and not from within himself. He worried that Elrohir would not receive him well, given his current role in his brother's suffering. He had seen Celebrían rush his twin from the library and then overheard Legolas tell Elrond what he and Elrohir had seen. It made him ill to think his brother had witnessed that female's deceit. However, he could wait no longer to find Elrohir. Whether Elrohir embraced him or shunned him, he would show his twin that he was there for him.

He scaled the tree effortlessly and leapt from a branch to the balcony. He landed silently. Glancing around him, he did not see anyone so he headed towards the gently swaying curtains that divided the outside world from the inside. He slipped inside. Immediately the song stopped. His mother must have noticed him.

"Hi Nana," he greeted softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He slowly approached the alcove she was tucked into.

"Elladan, dearest, how many times do I have to ask you not to treat the house like a climbing toy?" Elladan smirked. He knew his mother was not upset with him, just worried for his safety.

"I guess one more time," he replied. His mirth faded when he finally found his brother. Elrohir was tucked against Celebrían's side, between her and the low rail in the window, his forehead resting against the curve of his mother's elegant neck. Tear tracks were easily detected on his fair cheeks. She was stroking his long, dark hair idly and Elladan noticed that it would have been in time with the song she had been singing when he arrived.

"You know what happened?" Celebrían asked quietly.

"I know he overheard me having words with the _elleth_. Her conniving deceit was revealed." Elladan sat down gingerly on the other edge of the bench, cautiously resting his hand on his brother's ankle. When Elrohir didn't kick him off he relaxed slightly.

"What took you so long to arrive?" Celebrían inquired. The twins had always turned to each other first when an ill took place. They seemed to have a sixth sense for each other's well-being.

"I worried he would not want me here," Elladan admitted. "I have caused him much pain, albeit unintentionally." He frowned deeply. Celebrían was struck by how old he looked just then, despite being seven years from his majority. Her babies had grown up too fast.

She felt Elrohir shift away from her so she moved her arms to let him sit up. "Oh El," the younger twin sniffled. "I know it is not your fault. I thank you for standing up for me."

"Of course, little brother!" Elladan affirmed. "I will always protect you." He wrapped Elrohir in a tight hug and sent a mental prayer to the Valar, thanking them that his twin was not upset with him.

_**tbc… **_

please review.

I did a sketch to accompany this chapter. I warn you, it's not very good and the coloring is atrocious, but it's of Elrohir and Celebrían. If you're interested, here's the address: **www-dot-geocities-dot-com/firestar385/deception17-dot-jpg.**

1 _torco _"troll" Q

2 _ango_ "snake" Q


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

_A/N: The second to last chapter!_

**Chapter Eighteen**

Elrond was very frustrated by the time he was able to leave Thranduil in the company of Glorfindel and Erestor and leave the festivities himself. All evening he had been distracted, wanting nothing more than to make sure his son was well and then to hunt down a few unlucky elves. He didn't care if Imladris lost its reputation as an accepting and safe haven for all travelers. No one who hurt one of his children would escape Elrond's wrath.

He finally found his family in the suite of rooms the twins shared. By the time Elladan and Elrohir had reached Legolas' age they were both quite tired of sharing each other's living space every minute of the day. Elrond and Celebrían had helped them move into their own rooms but by the end a week it was obvious the setup was not working. In order to allow the twins their space but not completely separate them, Elrond remodeled a suite to have two bedrooms. They still shared a common antechamber and bathing room.

Celebrían sat before a small fire in a wooden rocking chair, reading quietly as she guarded her youngest son's sleep. Elrond went over to her and kneeled before her chair. "Where is Elladan?" he asked in a whisper so he wouldn't wake Elrohir.

"He went to find a light snack," Celebrían replied. "He should return shortly." Elrond nodded before dropping a kiss on her cheek and standing. He quickly crossed the distance to Elrohir's bed so he could check for himself on the younger elf's well-being. Elrohir's brow was furrowed slightly but otherwise he looked calm.

Elrond returned to Celebrían's side. "On the morrow I am going to speak with the _elleth_ and her mother," he told her. "I plan to request their immediate departure from the valley."

"Do not be too hasty, my love," Celebrían smiled. "Elrohir must have the chance to forgive her or he will never move past this."

"She does not deserve his forgiveness," Elrond scowled. To his annoyance, Celebrían laughed softly.

"Oh Elrond, you overreact! Yes, I am also upset that she tried to use Elrohir for personal gains but he didn't truly love her. It was just a childish infatuation and he will move on quickly. You should be more worried for your oldest. Elladan will be more likely to bear the grudge."

"You speak wisely, Cele," Elrond sighed, disappointed he would not have the opportunity to bring Mordor down on the heads of those elves. At least he could still give them a verbal lashing on the proper decorum of elves that they would not quickly forget.

* * *

_The next morning_

"You could claim the message was lost," Lindir suggested, tossing a folded parchment onto the desk of Rúmil's guest chamber. He had just finished reading the contents and was displeased to learn that Celeborn had requested the Galadhrim warrior's immediate return to the Golden Wood.

"The messenger has already begun his return trip," Rúmil chuckled.

"We could ask Glorfindel to ride out after him and threaten him with death if he informs Lord Celeborn that you actually read the message."

"I think Glorfindel would be more likely to ensure the speed and safety of his return than hinder it," Rúmil countered. He packed a few more wrapped _lembas_ into his travel pouch. "I never knew you to be so violent, Lindir."

"Well, I wish you didn't have to leave so soon," Lindir sighed. "You've only just arrived."

"I have been here for nearly a month," Rúmil pointed out.

"You seem glad to be going back," Lindir accused him with a frown.

"Do not be petulant, Lindir!" Rúmil laughed. He walked over to the desk and tugged on one of the minstrel's braids. Lindir scowled at him. "Of course I want nothing more than to remain here and do naught but swim in the river and drive Glorfindel to distraction, but I am needed in Lothlórien. Despite our victory during the Last Alliance, orcs and wargs and all types of fell beasts still roam Arda. Besides that, someone must make sure Haldir does not become too sure of himself."

"I know, I know," admitted Lindir. "I just do not wish to be left here alone."

"Alone? You'll surely not be alone. You already spend all day with Lord Elrond and Erestor."

"It is not the same," Lindir explained. "They are both much older than me. At least with you I am an equal. Even Legolas, who is just a child, brought brightness to my days. He needed me and, dare I say it, wanted my company. Now that you and he are leaving, I am once again left with only elves whose lives would not be much altered had I never existed."

"That is not true," Rúmil argued. He dropped to his knees so he could rest his forearms on Lindir's lap and look up at the minstrel's face. "Listen to me. Glorfindel still loves you. I do not know what bothered him so greatly during the war but I am sure he will overcome it soon. He seemed rather happy with you last night."

"Perhaps right at the start, but after Thranduil and Elrond arrived he never even looked at me again. I went to speak with him after the festivities but he had already retired and would not answer a knock on his door."

"If I was not absolutely certain that Glorfindel would cut me into hundreds of little pieces and feed me to the Mirkwood spiders if I dared to confront him, I would tell him what a horrible elf he is being. However, I do not think it is my place to do so."

"No, this is not your problem. I would not drag you into it."

"Do not be so dejected, my friend. Think of this: the twins turn fifty in seven years. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel will most definitely travel to Imladris for the celebration. I will make sure I am part of their escort. Can you wait seven years to see me again? Of course, I will try to come sooner, if possible."

"Yes, I suppose I can survive that long," Lindir answered with a weak smile.

"It is too bad that Thranduil is on such bad terms with Celeborn. I would _love_ to attend Legolas' coming of age celebration," Rúmil smirked deviously.

"It is no wonder he and Glorfindel think so lowly of you!" Lindir exclaimed with amusement. "You live to torment others."

"What do you expect? After two thousand years life can get quite monotonous."

"You have not seen two thousand summers yet," Lindir reminded him.

"Close enough," Rúmil grinned. "Now, help me pack. If I am prepared soon, perhaps we can go find Legolas and give Thranduil conniptions before the Mirkwood party leaves."

"You are incorrigible."

_**tbc… **_

please review.

Thank You:  
**Seeing-spots** – Hopefully the picture worked at least once for you. I'm glad the "insult" part worked without seeming childish.

**Coolio** – Thank you for your kind words… Elladan is quite relieved as well that Elrohir isn't mad at him, and it definitely wasn't his fault.

**Arian** – Hehe, I agree. Elrohir's face did look something like that. I'm sure Elrohir has _some_thing to say to the _elleth_. ;) Lindir could probably use a few more hugs now.

**Arialas** – Sorry about the confusion… Thranduil and Glorfindel agree that Rúmil shouldn't be allowed near Legolas. :)  
I will be visiting France, Spain, Italy, Austria, Germany, and England… whew!

**Randa-Chan** – I'm happy to hear that you find bits of the story funny… humor is so hard to write. There is only one more chapter to this story, and then I recommend you read _Dandelion_, which is actually the sequel to this one, and you'll find out all about Glorfindel's problem.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Deception and Heartbreak**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

_A/N: The last chapter! Unfortunately, I didn't finish _Severance_ in time, but you should get it as soon as I return… August 16th/17th._

**Chapter Nineteen**

Fortunately, for Thranduil's sanity and peace of mind, the opportunity never presented itself for Legolas to find himself in the company of the 'Lorien warrior. The Mirkwood party left early the next morning. Thranduil was eager to return to his kingdom which was still reeling from the betrayal of one of their own. The friends and family of Lord Elrond were sad to see the little prince go as he had grown close to their hearts during his brief stay in the hidden valley.

"Are you quite sure the palace is safe again?" Celebrían inquired of the blond king from her kneeling position on the smooth stone of the courtyard. In her protective arms was Legolas, diplomatically enduring her restraining hug. Despite her submissive position to Thranduil, the look in her eyes told him that he had better be _sure_ all evil was vanquished from his halls before loosing the prince within them again.

"Cele, darling," Elrond pleaded, placing his hand on her shoulder. He knew his strong-willed wife cared nothing for tense accords between estranged nations when a child was at risk. Still, that did not change the fact that Thranduil was looking rather annoyed at having his parenting skills questioned by the daughter of Celeborn. "I am sure Thranduil has taken all measures to ensure peace in his halls."

"I have," Thranduil agreed tightly. He did not like how possessive these Noldo had become of his little Greenleaf. He especially didn't like that his precious child had been allowed to be influenced by the less-than-commendable Galadhrim.

Celebrían grudgingly released the little prince and stood, taking her husband's hand. Thranduil deftly lifted Legolas onto the back of the king's massive warhorse before any of the other gathered elves got any ideas about trying to keep his son in Imladris. He mounted gracefully behind his son and patted the horse's thick neck. There were no reins to grab hold of, as was the Mirkwood way to not harness their steeds with saddles or tack.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Eärendilion," Thranduil said formally.

"You will send a message when you reach your halls safely," Celebrían informed him. Thranduil complied with a sharp nod. He motioned for his escort to prepare to depart. The party, dressed in browns and greens, rode from the valley without a backward glance.

Rúmil and the remaining elves of Lothlórien who had accompanied Menelluin back to Imladris departed that afternoon. The Last Homely House felt empty now to Lindir. All of the guests were parted and Glorfindel had wasted no time returning to the training fields and his warriors.

Slowly, he made his way back to his small suite and dropped down unceremoniously onto chair before his golden harp. He plucked despondently at the perfectly tuned strings.

* * *

"May I sit, Lord Elrohir?" the little redhead questioned softly. She had finally tracked the elusive half-elf down in his mother's favorite garden, curled up beneath a flowering apple tree with a thick book.

"If you wish," Elrohir answered. He snapped his book shut and climbed to his feet, preparing to leave.

"No, please do not go," the _elleth_ begged. "I wish to apologize!"

"I do not wish to hear an apology if it is borne by a chastisement from my father or brother," Elrohir informed her.

"It is not," she insisted.

"I find it difficult to believe anything that comes from your mouth. Lies flow more sweetly from your lips than songs of blessing."

"Then look at me and you shall see the truth in my eyes," she demanded.

"How are you so sure it is even I that you speak to. Perhaps I am truly Elladan," Elrohir sneered. The _elleth_ pressed her lips together tightly. Regret ate at her, as well as guilt. He must let her explain!

"I have been able to tell you two apart for many weeks," the redhead declared. "I am not as uninspired as you would like to believe."

"No, you are not. Rather, you are cruel and heartless. You are venal."

"You dishonor me," she accused him, folding her arms across her chest.

"You have dishonored yourself," Elrohir replied darkly.

"Let me explain my actions, lest you think wrongly of me for all eternity," she pleaded, changing her tone in hopes of gaining some sympathy from the usually more passive twin. When Elrohir didn't look moved, she added, "Lest I think wrongly of _you_ for the rest of my days." He had always appeared to her as a forgiving and caring individual who would place the needs of others above his own. That was why she had approached him initially. She refused to believe he would send her away so callously.

"Fine," Elrohir acquiesced.

"Please sit," she requested, kneeling herself and patting the soft grass beside her. Elrohir complied tensely. "You must understand," she started nervously, "what I did, I did not do out of maliciousness or want of power. You know my story. My father passed over the sea decades ago, leaving me in the care of my only my mother, who is weary of Middle-earth. Now we, too, travel to the undying lands. But Elrohir, I am not ready to depart. The song of the sea is not within me yet. I do not wish to leave Middle-earth. I told my mother this, but she refused to let me remain behind. She declared that only if I was bound to the heir of a king would she relent to my staying."

"You are your own person. She does not control you," Elrohir stated, glaring across the manicured plants of the garden. She could tell he was not moved by her tale.

"She is my only family in Middle-earth; I could not openly disobey her," she said defensively.

"Then answer me this: If it was Elladan who caught your eye all along, why bother dragging me into this charade of yours?"

"Because I was afraid of your brother," she admitted.

"Afraid of Elladan? You surely are muddled in the head."

"It may be hard for you to see Elrohir, being on the inside. It is obvious that Elladan cares greatly for you. To outsiders, he is often less than approachable. It is hard to explain, but he is so confident, so sure of himself, that he is intimidating. He does not love easily and I feared I would not be able to gain his attention."

"So you hoped to use me to grow close to Elladan," Elrohir concluded.

"No… yes," she admitted sadly. "And I hate myself for it, you must believe me. If you would, think of it as an indication of your fine character. Elves are drawn to you for your charisma and openness to others."

"You do realize that now I will be less than charismatic or open to _ellyth_ seeking my attentions."

"Then I have done a great disservice to my fellow females," she sighed. "Well, there you have it. That is my reason for what I did. I am not proud of myself. I wish I could return to the past and undo all that has been done."

"Perhaps I understand your reasons, but I do not agree with them," Elrohir replied. "Your excuses do not change the fact that I feel dirty and used. I find it harder to trust strangers and I am less outgoing with my friends of old. One day, I hope I will feel whole once again. On that day, you will have my forgiveness." He stood quickly and left in such haste that he forgot his book. The _elleth_ watched him leave forlornly until she could no longer see him. She glanced down at the book curiously and flipped it open to the page marked by the last reader. To her dismay, the words revealed the story of Beren and Lúthien, the greatest love story in the history of Middle-earth.

She vowed then that she would not leave the shores of Middle-earth until she had gained Elrohir's forgiveness. She would defy her mother and even the will of the Lord Elrond if it came to that, but she would see the younger twin whole again. Only by knowing unquestioningly of Elrohir's love for another could she ever forgive herself.

_**The End!**_

please review.

Thank You:  
_I will try to personally respond by email to any reviews I get for this last chapter while I'm overseas._

**Seeing-spots** – Haha, that's exactly how I see Rumil when I write him. Unfortunately, Elrond's confrontation was behind the scenes, but 'Ro tells her what's up.

**Arian** – I'm excited… nervous, but excited. Hopefully you got this in time!

**Arialas** – Thank you very much!

**For those of you that are interested, I will be keeping an online journal of my trip at www-dot-geocities-dot-com/ourlilbj/europe-dot-html**.


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